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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


A    LAODICEAN 


A    LAODICEAN 


A  STORY  OF  TO-DAY 


BY 


THOMAS    HARDY 

AUTHOR  OF    "TESS   OF  THE   D'URBERVILLES," 

"life's  little  ironies,"  etc. 


WITH   AN   ETCHING   BY 

H.    MACBETH-RAEBURN 

AND   A   MAP  OF  WESSEX 


NEW  YORK 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS 

FRANKLIN  SQUARE 
1896 


r  0 


Printed  hy  Bai.lantvne,  Hanson  ^  Co, 
At  Hie  Ballantync  Press 


PREFACE 

i  HE  changing  of  the  old  order  in  country  manors  and 
mansions  may  be  slow  or  sudden,  may  have  many  issues 
romantic  or  otherwise,  its  romantic  issues  being  not 
necessarily  restricted  to  a  change  back  to  the  original 
order ;  though  this  admissible  instance  appears  to  have 
been  the  only  romance  formerly  recognized  by  novelists 
as  possible  in  the  case.  Whether  the  following  production 
be  a  picture  of  other  possibilities  or  not,  its  incidents 
may  be  taken  to  be  fairly  well  supported  by  evidence 
every  day  forthcoming  in  most  counties. 

The  writing  of  the  tale  was  rendered  memorable  to 
two  persons,  at  least,  by  a  tedious  illness  of  five  months 
that  laid  hold  of  the  author  soon  after  the  story  was  begun 
in  a  well-known  magazine  ;  during  which  period  the  narra- 
tive had  to  be  strenuously  continued  l>y  dictation  to  a 
predetermined  cheerful  ending. 

As  some  of  these  novels  of  Wessex  life  address  themselves 
more  especially  to  readers  into  whose  souls  the  iron  has 
entered,  and  whose  years  have  less  pleasure  in  them  now 

V 


PREFACE 

than  heretofore,  so  "A  Laodicean"  may  perhaps  help  to 
while  away  an  idle  afternoon  of  the  comfortable  ones  whose 
lines  have  fallen  to  them  in  pleasant  places  ;  above  all, 
of  that  large  and  happy  section  of  the  reading  public 
which  has  not  yet  reached  ripeness  of  years  ;  those  to 
whom  marriage  is  the  pilgrim's  Eternal  City,  and  not  a 
milestone  on  the  way. 

T.  H. 

January  1896. 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  THE  FIRST 

TAG  a 

George  Somerset,  I-XV        .  .  .  .  i 


BOOK  THE  SECOND 

Dare  and  IIavill,  I-VIT       .  .  .  .141 

BOOK  THE  THIRD 

De   bTANCY,    I-XI  .  .  .  .  .201 

vii 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

BOOK  THE  FOURTH 

Somerset,  Dare,  and  De  Stancy,  I-V      .  .      301 

BOOK  THE  FIFTH 

De  Stancy  and  Paula,  I-XIV         .  .  -337 

BOOK  THE  SIXTH 

Paula,  I-V         .  .  .  .  .  -453 


BOOK  THE  FIRST 

GEORGE  SOMERSET 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 


BOOK  THE  FIRST 
GEORGE  SOMERSET 


i  HE  sun  blazed  down  and  down,  till  it  was  within 
half-an-hour  of  its  setting ;  but  the  sketcher  still  lingered 
at  his  occupation  of  measuring  and  copying  the  chevroned 
doorway — a  bold  and  quaint  example  of  a  transitional 
style  of  architecture,  which  formed  the  tower  entrance  to 
an  English  village  church.  The  graveyard  being  quite 
open  on  its  western  side,  the  tweed-clad  figure  of  the 
young  draughtsman,  and  the  tall  mass  of  antique  masonry 
which  rose  above  him  to  a  battlemented  parapet,  were 
fired  to  a  great  brightness  by  the  solar  rays,  that  crossed 
the  neighbouring  mead  like  a  warp  of  gold  threads,  in 
whose  mazes  groups  of  equally  lustrous  gnats  danced  and 
wailed  incessantly. 

He  was  so  absorbed  in  his  pursuit  that  he  did  not 
mark  the  brilliant  chromatic  effect  of  which  he  composed 
the  central  feature,  till  it  was  brought  home  to  his  intelli- 
gence by  the  warmth  of  the  moulded  stonework  under 
his  touch  when  measuring ;  which  led  him  at  length  to 
turn  his  head  and  gaze  on  its  cause. 

There  are  few  in  whom  the  sight  of  a  sunset  does  not 
beget  as  much  meditative  melancholy  as  contemplative 
pleasure,  the  human  decline  and  death  that  it  illustrates 

3 


A   LAODICEAN 

being  too  obvious  to  escape  the  notice  of  the  simplest 
observer.  The  sketcher,  as  if  he  had  been  brought  to 
this  reflection  many  hundreds  of  times  before  by  the  same 
spectacle,  showed  that  he  did  not  wish  to  pursue  it  just 
now,  by  turning  away  his  face  after  a  few  moments,  to 
resume  his  architectural  studies. 

He  took  his  measurements  carefully,  and  as  if  he 
reverenced  the  old  workers  whose  trick  he  was  en- 
deavouring to  acquire  six  hundred  years  after  the  original 
performance  had  ceased  and  the  performers  passed  into 
the  unseen.  By  means  of  a  strip  of  lead  called  a  leaden 
tape,  which  he  pressed  around  and  into  the  fillets  and 
hollows  with  his  finger  and  thumb,  he  transferred  the 
exact  contour  of  each  moulding  to  his  drawing,  that  lay 
on  a  sketching-stool  a  few  feet  distant ;  where  were  also 
a  sketching-block,  a  small  T-square,  a  bow-pencil,  and 
other  mathematical  instruments.  When  he  had  marked 
down  the  line  thus  fixed,  he  returned  to  the  doorway  to 
copy  another  as  before. 

It  being  the  month  of  August,  when  the  pale  face  of 
the  townsman  and  the  stranger  is  to  be  seen  among  the 
brown  skins  of  remotest  uplanders,  not  only  in  England, 
but  throughout  the  temperate  zone,  few  of  the  homeward- 
bound  labourers  paused  to  notice  him  further  than  by  a 
momentary  turn  of  the  head.  They  had  beheld  such 
gentlemen  before,  not  exactly  measuring  the  church  so 
accurately  as  this  one  seemed  to  be  doing,  but  painting 
it  from  a  distance,  or  at  least  walking  round  the  mouldy 
pile.  At  the  same  time  the  present  visitor,  even  ex- 
teriorly, was  not  altogether  commonplace.  His  features 
were  good,  his  eyes  of  the  dark  deep  sort  called  eloquent 
by  the  sex  that  ought  to  know,  and  with  that  ray  of  light 
in  them  which  announces  a  heart  susceptible  to  beauty 
of  all  kinds, — in  woman,  in  art,  and  in  inanimate  nature. 
Though  he  would  have  been  broadly  characterized  as 
a  young  man,  his  face  bore  contradictory  testimonies  to 
his  precise  age.     This  was  conceivably  owing  to  a  too 

4 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

dominant  speculative  activity  in  him,  which,  wliile  it  had 
preserved  the  emotional  side  of  his  constitution,  and  with 
it  the  significant  flexuousness  of  mouth  and  chin,  had 
played  upon  his  forehead  and  temples  till,  at  weary 
moments,  they  exhibited  some  traces  of  being  over- 
exercised.  A  youthfulness  about  the  mobile  features,  a 
mature  forehead — though  not  exactly  what  the  world 
has  been  familiar  with  in  past  ages — is  now  growing 
common ;  and  with  the  advance  of  juvenile  introspection 
it  probably  must  grow  commoner  still.  Briefly,  he  had 
more  of  the  beauty — if  beauty  it  ought  to  be  called — of 
the  future  human  type  than  of  the  past ;  but  not  so 
much  as  to  make  him  other  than  a  nice  young  man. 

His  build  was  somewhat  slender  and  tall ;  his  com- 
plexion, though  a  little  browned  by  recent  exposure, 
was  that  of  a  man  who  spent  much  of  his  time  indoors. 
Of  beard  he  had  but  small  show,  though  he  was  as 
innocent  as  a  Nazarite  of  the  use  of  the  razor ;  but  he 
possessed  a  moustache  all-sufficient  to  hide  the  subtleties 
of  his  mouth,  which  could  thus  be  tremulous  at  tender 
moments  without  provoking  inconvenient  criticism. 

Owing  to  his  situation  on  high  ground,  open  to  the 
west,  he  remained  enveloped  in  the  lingering  aureate 
haze  till  a  time  when  the  eastern  part  of  the  churchyard 
was  in  obscurity,  and  damp  with  rising  dew.  When  it 
w'as  too  dark  to  sketch  further  he  packed  up  his  drawing, 
and,  beckoning  to  a  lad  who  had  been  idling  by  the 
gate,  directed  him  to  carry  the  stool  and  implements 
to  a  roadside  inn  which  he  named,  lying  a  mile  or  two 
ahead.  The  draughtsman  leisurely  followed  the  lad  out 
of  the  churchyard,  and  along  a  lane  in  the  direction 
signified. 

The  spectacle  of  a  summer  traveller  from  London 
sketching  medieval  details  in  these  neo- Pagan  days, 
when  a  lull  has  come  over  the  study  of  English  Gothic 
architecture,  through  a  re-awakening  to   the  art-forms 

5 


A   LAODICEAN 

of  times  that  more  nearly  neighbour  our  own,  is  ac- 
counted for  by  the  fact  that  George  Somerset,  son  of  the 
Academician  of  that  name,  was  a  man  of  independent 
tastes  and  excursive  instincts,  who  unconsciously,  and 
perhaps  unhappily,  took  greater  pleasure  in  floating  in 
lonely  currents  of  thought  than  with  the  general  tide  of 
opinion.  When  quite  a  lad,  in  the  days  of  the  French- 
Gothic  mania  which  immediately  succeeded  to  the  great 
English-pointed  revival  under  Britton,  Pugin,  Rickman, 
Scott,  and  other  medisevalists,  he  had  crept  away  from 
the  fashion  to  admire  what  was  good  in  Palladian  and 
Renaissance.  As  soon  as  Jacobean,  Queen  Anne,  and 
kindred  accretions  of  decayed  styles  began  to  be  popular, 
he  purchased  such  old-school  works  as  Revett  and 
Stuart,  Chambers,  and  the  rest,  and  worked  diligently 
at  the  Five  Orders ;  till  quite  bewildered  on  the  question 
of  style,  he  concluded  that  all  styles  were  extinct,  and 
with  them  all  architecture  as  a  living  art.  Somerset  was 
not  old  enough  at  that  time  to  know  that,  in  practice, 
art  had  at  all  times  been  as  full  of  shifts  and  com- 
promises as  every  other  mundane  thing;  that  ideal 
perfection  was  never  achieved  by  Greek,  Goth,  or 
Hebrew  Jew,  and  never  would  be;  and  thus  he  v>-as 
thrown  into  a  mood  of  disgust  with  his  profession, 
from  which  mood  he  was  only  delivered  by  recklessly 
abandoning  these  studies  and  indulging  in  an  old  en- 
thusiasm for  poetical  literature.  For  two  whole  years 
he  did  nothing  but  write  verse  in  every  conceivable 
metre,  and  on  every  conceivable  subject,  from  Words- 
worthian  sonnets  on  the  singing  of  his  tea-kettle  to 
epic  fragments  on  the  Fall  of  Empires.  His  discovery 
at  the  age  of  five-and-twenty  that  these  inspired  works 
were  not  jumped  at  by  the  publishers  with  all  the  eager- 
ness they  deserved,  coincided  in  point  of  time  with  a 
severe  hint  from  his  father  that  unless  he  went  on  with 
his  legitimate  profession  he  might  have  to  look  else- 
where than  at  home  for  an  allowance.     Mr.  Somerset 

6 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

junior  then  awoke  to  realities,  became  intently  practical, 
rushed  back  to  his  dusty  drawing-boards,  and  worked 
up  the  styles  anew,  with  a  view  of  regularly  starting  in 
practice  on  the  first  day  of  the  following  January. 

It  is  an  old  story,  and  perhaps  only  deserves  the 
light  tone  in  which  the  soaring  of  a  young  man  into  the 
empyrean,  and  his  descent  again,  is  always  narrated. 
But  as  has  often  been  said,  the  light  and  the  truth  may 
be  on  the  side  of  the  dreamer :  a  far  wider  view  than 
the  wise  ones  have  may  be  his  at  that  recalcitrant  time, 
and  his  reduction  to  common  measure  be  nothing  less 
than  a  tragic  event.  The  operation  called  lunging,  in 
which  a  haltered  colt  is  made  to  trot  round  and  round 
a  horsebreaker  who  holds  the  rope,  till  the  beholder 
grows  dizzy  in  looking  at  them,  is  a  very  unhappy  one 
for  the  animal  concerned.  During  its  progress  the  colt 
springs  upward,  across  the  circle,  stops,  flies  over  the 
turf  VN-ith  the  velocity  of  a  bird,  and  indulges  in  all  sorts 
of  graceful  antics ;  but  he  always  ends  in  one  way — 
thanks  to  the  knotted  whipcord — in  a  level  trot  round 
the  lunger  with  the  regularity  of  a  horizontal  wheel,  and 
in  the  loss  for  ever  to  his  character  of  the  bold  contours 
which  the  fine  hand  of  Nature  gave  it.  Yet  the  process 
is  considered  to  be  the  making  of  him. 

Whether  Somerset  became  permanently  made  under 
the  action  of  the  inevitable  lunge,  or  whether  he  lapsed 
into  mere  dabbling  with  the  artistic  side  of  his  profession 
only,  it  would  be  premature  to  say ;  but  at  any  rate  it 
was  his  contrite  return  to  architecture  as  a  calling  that 
sent  him  on  the  sketching  excursion  under  notice.  Feel- 
ing that  something  still  was  wanting  to  round  off  his 
knowledge  before  he  could  take  his  professional  line 
with  confidence,  he  was  led  to  remember  that  his  own 
native  Gothic  was  the  one  form  of  design  that  he  had 
totally  neglected  from  the  beginning,  through  its  having 
greeted  him  with  wearisome  iteration  at  the  opening  of 
his  career.     Now  it  had  again  returned  to  silence;  in- 

7 


A   LAODICEAN 

deed — such  is  the  surprising  instabiUty  of  art  '  prin- 
ciples '  as  they  are  facetiously  called — it  was  just  as 
likely  as  not  to  sink  into  the  neglect  and  oblivion 
which  had  been  its  lot  in  Georgian  times.  This  acci- 
dent of  being  out  of  vogue  lent  English  Gothic  an 
additional  charm  to  one  of  his  proclivities ;  and  away 
he  went  to  make  it  the  business  of  a  summer  circuit 
in  the  west. 

The  quiet  time  of  evening,  the  secluded  neighbour- 
hood, the  unusually  gorgeous  liveries  of  the  clouds 
packed  in  a  pile  over  that  quarter  of  the  heavens  in 
which  the  sun  had  disappeared,  were  such  as  to  make 
a  traveller  loiter  on  his  walk.  Coming  to  a  stile, 
Somerset  mounted  himself  on  the  top  bar,  to  imbibe 
the  spirit  of  the  scene  and  hour.  The  evening  was  so 
still  that  every  trifling  sound  could  be  heard  for  miles. 
There  was  the  rattle  of  a  returning  waggon,  mixed  with 
the  smacks  of  the  waggoner's  whip  :  the  team  must  have 
been  at  least  three  miles  off.  From  far  over  the  hill 
came  the  faint  periodic  yell  of  kennelled  hounds  ;  while 
from  the  nearest  village  resounded  the  voices  of  boys  at 
play  in  the  twilight.  Then  a  powerful  clock  struck  the 
hour ;  it  was  not  from  the  direction  of  the  church,  but 
rather  from  the  wood  behind  him  ;  and  he  thought  it 
must  be  the  clock  of  some  mansion  that  way. 

But  the  mind  of  man  cannot  always  be  forced  to 
take  up  subjects  by  the  pressure  of  their  material  pre- 
sence, and  Somerset's  thoughts  were  often,  to  his  great 
loss,  apt  to  be  even  more  than  common  truants  from 
the  tones  and  images  that  met  his  outer  senses  on  walks 
and  rides.  He  would  sometimes  go  quietly  through  the 
queerest,  gayest,  most  extraordinary  town  in  Europe, 
and  let  it  alone,  provided  it  did  not  meddle  with  him 
by  its  beggars,  beauties,  innkeepers,  police,  coachmen, 
mongrels,  bad  smells,  and  such  like  obstructions.  This 
feat  of  questionable  utility  he  began  performing  now. 
Sitting  on  the  three-inch  ash  rail  that  had  been  peeled 

8 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

and  polished  like  glass  by  the  rubbings  of  all  the  small- 
clothes in  the  parish,  he  forgot  the  time,  the  place, 
forgot  that  it  was  August — in  short,  everything  of  the 
present  altogether.  His  mind  flew  back  to  his  past 
life,  and  deplored  the  waste  of  time  that  had  resulted 
from  his  not  having  been  able  to  make  up  his  mind 
which  of  the  many  fashions  of  art  that  were  coming 
and  going  in  kaleidoscopic  change  was  the  true  point 
of  departure  from  himself.  He  had  suffered  from  the 
modern  malady  of  unlimited  appreciativeness  as  much 
as  any  living  man  of  his  own  age.  Dozens  of  his 
fellows  in  years  and  experience,  who  had  never  thought 
specially  of  the  matter,  but  had  blunderingly  applied 
themselves  to  whatever  form  of  art  confronted  them  at 
the  moment  of  their  making  a  move,  were  by  this  time 
acquiring  renown  as  new  lights ;  while  he  was  still 
unknown.  He  wished  that  some  accident  could  have 
hemmed  in  his  eyes  between  inexorable  blinkers,  and 
sped  him  on  in  a  channel  ever  so  worn. 

Thus  balanced  between  believing  and  not  believing 
in  his  own  future,  he  was  recalled  to  the  scene  without 
by  hearing  the  notes  of  a  familiar  hymn,  rising  in  sub- 
dued harmonies  from  a  valley  below.  He  listened 
more  heedfuUy.  It  was  his  old  friend  the  '  New 
Sabbath,'  which  he  had  never  once  heard  since  the 
lisping  days  of  childhood,  and  whose  existence,  much  as 
it  had  then  been  to  him,  he  had  till  this  moment  quite 
forgotten.  Where  the  '  New  Sabbath  '  had  kept  itself  all 
these  years — why  that  sound  and  hearty  melody  had 
disappeared  from  all  the  cathedrals,  parish  churches, 
minsters  and  chapels-of-ease  that  he  had  been  ac- 
quainted with  during  his  apprenticeship  to  life,  and 
until  his  ways  had  become  irregular  and  uncongrega- 
tional — he  could  not,  at  first,  say.  But  then  he  recol- 
lected that  the  tune  appertained  to  the  old  west-gallery 
period  of  church-music,  anterior  to  the  great  choral 
reformation  and  the  rule  of  Monk — that  old  time  when 


A   LAODICEAN 

the  repetition  of  a  word,  or  half-Hne  of  a  verse,  was  not 
considered  a  disgrace  to  an  ecclesiastical  choir. 

Willing  to  be  interested  in  anything  which  would 
keep  him  out-of-doors,  Somerset  dismounted  from  the 
stile  and  descended  the  hill  before  him,  to  learn  whence 
the  singing  proceeded. 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 


II 

11 E  found  that  it  had  its  origin  in  a  building  stand- 
ing alone  in  a  field ;  and  though  the  evening  was  not 
yet  dark  without,  lights  shone  from  the  windows.  In  a 
few  moments  Somerset  stood  before  the  edifice.  Being 
just  then  en  rapport  with  ecclesiasticism  by  reason  of 
his  recent  occupation,  he  could  not  help  murmuring, 
'  Shade  of  Pugin,  what  a  monstrosity  ! ' 

Perhaps  this  exclamation  (rather  out  of  date  since 
the  discovery  that  Pugin  himself  often  nodded  amaz- 
ingly) would  not  have  been  indulged  in  by  Somerset 
but  for  his  new  architectural  resolves,  which  caused 
professional  opinions  to  advance  themselves  officiously 
to  his  lips  whenever  occasion  offered.  The  building 
was,  in  short,  a  recently-erected  chapel  of  red  brick, 
with  pseudo  -  classic  ornamentation,  and  the  white  re- 
gular joints  of  mortar  could  be  seen  streaking  its 
surface  in  geometrical  oppressiveness  from  top  to 
bottom.  The  roof  was  of  blue  slate,  clean  as  a  table, 
and  unbroken  from  gable  to  gable;  the  windows  were 
glazed  with  sheets  of  plate  glass,  a  temporary  iron  stove- 
pipe passing  out  near  one  of  these,  and  running  up  to 
the  height  of  the  ridge,  where  it  was  finished  by  a 
covering  like  a  parachute.  ^V'alking  round  to  the  end, 
he  perceived  an  oblong  white  stone  let  into  the  wall 

II 


A   LAODICEAN 

just  above  the  plinth,  on  which  was  inscribed  in  deep 
letters  : — 

Brectcd  187— 

AT   THE   SOLE    EXPENSE   OF 

JOHN   POWER,   Esq.,    M.P. 

The  '  New  Sabbath '  still  proceeded  line  by  line, 
with  all  the  emotional  swells  and  cadences  that  had  of 
old  characterized  the  tune :  and  the  body  of  vocal 
harmony  that  it  evoked  implied  a  large  congregation 
within,  to  whom  it  was  plainly  as  familiar  as  it  had 
been  to  church-goers  of  a  past  generation.  With  a 
whimsical  sense  of  regret  at  the  secession  of  his  once 
favourite  air  Somerset  moved  away,  and  would  have 
quite  withdrawn  from  the  field  had  he  not  at  that 
moment  observed  two  young  men  with  pitchers  of 
water  coming  up  from  a  stream  hard  by,  and  hastening 
with  their  burdens  into  the  chapel  vestry  by  a  side  door. 
Almost  as  soon  as  they  had  entered  they  emerged 
again  with  empty  pitchers,  and  proceeded  to  the  stream 
to  fill  them  as  before,  an  operation  which  they  repeated 
several  times.  Somerset  went  forward  to  the  stream, 
and  waited  till  the  young  men  came  out  again. 

'  You  are  carrying  in  a  great  deal  of  water,'  he  said, 
as  each  dipped  his  pitcher. 

One  of  the  young  men  modestly  replied,  '  Yes  :  we 
filled  the  cistern  this  morning;  but  it  leaks,  and  re- 
quires a  few  pitcherfuls  more.' 

'  Why  do  you  do  it  ?  ' 

'There  is  to  be  a  baptism,  sir.' 

Somerset  was  not  sufficiently  interested  to  develop 
a  further  conversation,  and  observing  them  in  silence 
till  they  had  again  vanished  into  the  building,  he  went 
on  his  way.  Reaching  the  brow  of  the  hill  he  stopped 
and  looked  back.  The  chapel  was  still  in  view,  and 
the  shades  of  night  having  deepened,  the  lights  shone 

12 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

from  the  windows  yet  more  brightly  than  before.  A 
few  steps  further  would  hide  them  and  the  edifice,  and 
all  that  belonged  to  it  from  his  sight,  possibly  for  t\er. 
There  was  something  in  the  thought  which  led  him 
to  linger.  The  chapel  had  neither  beauty,  quaintness, 
nor  congeniality  to  recommend  it :  the  dissimilitude  be- 
tween the  new  utilitarianism  of  the  place  and  the  scenes 
of  venerable  Gothic  art  which  had  occupied  his  day- 
light hours  could  not  well  be  exceeded.  But  Somerset, 
as  has  been  said,  was  an  instrument  of  no  narrow  gamut : 
he  had  a  key  for  other  touches  than  the  purely  resthetic, 
even  on  such  an  excursion  as  this.  His  mind  was 
arrested  by  the  intense  and  busy  energy  which  must 
needs  belong  to  an  assembly  that  required  such  a  glare 
of  light  to  do  its  religion  by ;  in  the  heaving  of  that 
tune  there  was  an  earnestness  which  made  him  thought- 
ful, and  the  shine  of  those  windows  he  had  characterized 
as  ugly  reminded  him  of  the  shining  of  the  good  deed 
in  a  naughty  world.  The  chapel  and  its  shabby  plot  of 
ground,  from  which  the  herbage  was  all  trodden  away 
by  busy  feet,  had  a  living  human  interest  that  the 
numerous  minsters  and  churches  knee-deep  in  fresh 
green  grass,  visited  by  him  during  the  foregoing  week, 
had  often  lacked.  Moreover,  there  was  going  to  be  a 
baptism :  that  meant  the  immersion  of  a  grown-up 
person ;  and  he  had  been  told  that  Baptists  were  serious 
people  and  that  the  scene  was  most  impressive.  What 
manner  of  man  would  it  be  who  on  an  ordinary  plodding 
and  bustling  evening  of  the  nineteenth  century  could 
single  liimself  out  as  one  different  from  the  rest  of  the 
inhabitants,  banish  all  shyness,  and  come  forward  to 
undergo  such  a  trying  ceremony  ?  Who  was  he  that 
had  pondered,  gone  into  solitudes,  wrestled  with  himself, 
worked  up  his  courage  and  said,  I  will  do  this,  though 
few  else  will,  for  I  believe  it  to  be  my  duty  ? 

Whether  on  account  of  these  tlioughts,  or  from  the 
circumstance  that  he  had  been  alone  amongst  the  tombs 


A   LAODICEAN 

all  day  without  communion  with  his  kind,  he  could  not 
tell  in  after  years  (when  he  had  good  reason  to  think  of 
the  subject) ;  but  so  it  was  that  Somerset  went  back, 
and  again  stood  under  the  chapel-wall. 

Instead  of  entering  he  passed  round  to  where  the 
stove-chimney  came  through  the  bricks,  and  holding  on 
to  the  iron  stay  he  put  his  toes  on  the  plinth  and  looked 
in  at  the  window.  The  building  was  quite  full  of 
people  belonging  to  that  vast  majority  of  society  who 
are  denied  the  art  of  articulating  their  higher  emotions, 
and  crave  dumbly  for  a  fugleman — respectably  dressed 
working  people,  whose  faces  and  forms  w^ere  worn  and 
contorted  by  years  of  dreary  toil.  On  a  platform  at  the 
end  of  the  chapel  a  haggard  man  of  more  than  middle 
age,  with  grey  whiskers  ascetically  cut  back  from  the 
fore  part  of  his  face  so  far  as  to  be  almost  banished 
from  the  countenance,  stood  reading  a  chapter.  Between 
the  minister  and  the  congregation  Avas  an  open  space, 
and  in  the  floor  of  this  was  sunk  a  tank  full  of  water, 
which  just  made  its  surface  visible  above  the  blackness 
of  its  depths  by  reflecting  the  lights  overhead. 

Somerset  endeavoured  to  discover  which  one  among 
the  assemblage  was  to  be  the  subject  of  the  ceremony. 
But  nobody  appeared  there  who  was  at  all  out  of  the 
region  of  commonplace.  The  people  were  all  quiet 
and  settled ;  yet  he  could  discern  on  their  faces  some- 
thing more  than  attention,  though  it  was  less  than 
excitement :  perhaps  it  was  expectation.  And  as  if 
to  bear  out  his  surmise  he  heard  at  that  moment  the 
noise  of  wheels  behind  him. 

His  gaze  into  the  lighted  chapel  made  what  had 
been  an  evening  scene  when  he  looked  away  from  the 
landscape  night  itself  on  looking  back ;  but  he  could 
see  enough  to  discover  that  a  brougham  had  driven  up 
to  the  side-door  used  by  the  young  water-bearers,  and 
that  a  lady  in  white-and-black  half-mourning  was  in  the 
act  of  alighting,  followed   by  what  appeared    to    be  a 

14 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

waiting-woman  carrying  wraps.  They  entered  the  vestry- 
room  of  the  chapel,  and  the  door  was  shut.  The 
service  went  on  as  before  till  at  a  certain  moment  the 
door  between  vestry  and  chapel  was  opened,  when  a 
woman  came  out  clothed  in  an  ample  robe  of  flowing 
white,  which  descended  to  her  feet.  Somerset  was 
unfortunate  in  his  position  ;  he  could  not  see  her  face, 
but  her  gait  suggested  at  once  that  she  was  the  lady 
who  had  arrived  just  before.  She  was  rather  tall  than 
otherwise,  and  the  contour  of  her  head  and  shoulders 
denoted  a  girl  in  the  heyday  of  youth  and  activity. 
His  imagination,  stimulated  by  this  beginning,  set  about 
filling  in  the  meagre  outline  with  most  attractive  details. 

She  stood  upon  the  brink  of  the  pool,  and  the 
minister  descended  the  steps  at  its  edge  till  the  soles  of 
his  shoes  were  moistened  with  the  water.  He  turned 
to  the  young  candidate,  but  she  did  not  follow  him  : 
instead  of  doing  so  she  remained  rigid  as  a  stone. 
He  stretched  out  his  hand,  but  she  still  showed  re- 
luctance, till,  with  some  embarrassment,  he  went  back, 
and  spoke  softly  in  her  ear. 

She  approached  the  edge,  looked  into  the  water, 
and  turned  away  shaking  her  head.  Somerset  could 
for  the  first  time  see  her  face.  Though  humanly  im- 
perfect, as  is  every  face  we  see,  it  was  one  which  made 
him  think  that  the  best  in  woman-kind  no  less  than 
the  best  in  psalm-tunes  had  gone  over  to  the  Dissenters. 
He  had  certainly  seen  nobody  so  interesting  in  his  tour 
hitherto ;  she  was  about  twenty  or  twenty-one — perhaps 
twenty-three,  for  years  have  a  way  of  stealing  marches 
even  upon  beauty's  anointed.  The  total  dissimilarity 
between  the  expression  of  her  lineaments  and  that  of  the 
countenances  around  her  was  not  a  little  surprising,  and 
was  productive  of  hypotheses  without  measure  as  to  how 
she  came  there.  She  was,  in  fact,  emphatically  a  modern 
type  of  maidenhood,  and  .slie  looked  ultra-modern  by 
reason  of  her. environment ;  a  presumably  sophisticated 


A   LAODICEAN 

being  among  the  simple  ones — not  wickedly  so,  but  one 
who  knew  life  fairly  well  for  her  age.  Her  hair,  of  good 
English  brown,  neither  light  nor  dark,  was  abundant — 
too  abundant  for  convenience  in  tying,  as  it  seemed ; 
and  it  threw  off  the  lamp-light  in  a  hazy  lustre.  And 
though  it  could  not  be  said  of  her  features  that  this  or 
that  was  flawless,  the  nameless  charm  of  them  altogether 
was  only  another  instance  of  how  beautiful  a  woman 
can  be  as  a  whole  without  attaining  in  any  one  detail 
to  the  lines  marked  out  as  absolutely  correct.  The 
spirit  and  the  life  were  there :  and  material  shapes  could 
be  disregarded. 

Whatever  moral  characteristics  this  might  be  the 
surface  of,  enough  was  shown  to  assure  Somerset  that 
she  had  some  experience  of  things  far  removed  from  her 
present  circumscribed  horizon,  and  could  live,  and  was 
even  at  that  moment  living,  a  clandestine,  stealthy  inner 
life  which  had  very  little  to  do  with  her  outward  one. 
The  repression  of  nearly  every  external  sign  of  that 
distress  under  which  Somerset  knew,  by  a  sudden  in- 
tuitive sympathy,  that  she  was  labouring,  added  strength 
to  these  convictions. 

'  And  you  refuse  ? '  said  the  astonished  minister,  as 
she  still  stood  immovable  on  the  brink  of  the  pool.  He 
persuasively  took  her  sleeve  between  his  finger  and 
thumb  as  if  to  draw  her ;  but  she  resented  this  by  a 
quick  movement  of  displeasure,  and  he  released  her, 
seeing  that  he  had  gone  too  far. 

'But,  my  dear  lady,'  he  said,  'you  promised!  Con- 
sider your  profession,  and  that  you  stand  in  the  eyes  of 
the  whole  church  as  an  exemplar  of  your  faith.' 

'  I  cannot  do  it ! ' 

'  But  your  father's  memory,  miss ;  his  last  djdng 
request ! ' 

'  I  cannot  help  it,'  she  said,  turning  to  get  away. 

'  You  came  here  with  the  intention  to  fulfil  the 
Word  ? ' 

i6 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

''But  I  was  mistaken.' 

'  Then  why  did  you  come  ?  ' 

She  tacitly  iinpUed  that  to  be  a  question  she  did  not 
care  to  answer.  '  Please  say  no  more  to  me,'  she 
murmured,  and  hastened  to  withdraw. 

During  this  unexpected  dialogue  (which  had  reached 
Somerset's  ears  through  the  open  windows)  that  young 
man's  feelings  had  flown  hither  and  thither  between 
minister  and  lady  in  a  most  capricious  manner :  it  had 
seemed  at  one  moment  a  rather  uncivil  thing  of  her. 
charming  as  she  was,  to  give  the  minister  and  the  water- 
bearers  so  much  trouble  for  nothing  ;  the  next,  it  seemed 
like  reviving  the  ancient  cruelties  of  the  ducking-stool  to 
tr)'  to  force  a  girl  into  that  dark  water  if  she  had  not  a 
mind  to  it.  But  the  minister  was  not  without  insight, 
and  he  had  seen  that  it  would  be  useless  to  say  more. 
The  crestfallen  old  m.an  had  to  turn  round  upon  the 
congregation  and  declare  officially  that  the  baptism  was 
postponed. 

She  passed  through  the  door  into  the  vestry.  During 
the  exciting  moments  of  her  recusancy  there  had  been  a 
perceptible  flutter  among  the  sensitive  members  of  the 
congregation ;  nervous  Dissenters  seeming  to  be  at  one 
with  nervous  Episcopalians  in  this  at  least,  that  they 
heartily  disliked  a  scene  during  service.  Calm  was  re- 
stored to  their  minds  by  the  minister  starting  a  rather 
long  hymn  in  minims  and  semibreves,  amid  the  singing 
of  which  he  ascended  the  pulpit.  His  face  had  a  severe 
and  even  denunciatory  look  as  he  gave  out  his  text,  and 
Somerset  began  to  understand  that  this  meant  mischief 
to  the  young  person  who  had  caused  the  hitch. 

'  In  the  third  chapter  of  Revelation  and  the  fifteenth 
and  following  verses,  you  will  find  these  words : — 

*  "  /  know  thy  works,  that  thou  art  neither  cold  nor  hot : 
I  would  thou  wert  cold  or  hot.  So  then  becmise  thou  art 
lukeivarm,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot,  I  will  sptie  thee  out  of 
my  mouth.  .   .  .    Thou  sayest,  I  am   rich,  and  increased 

17  p 


A  LAODICEAN 

7mth  goods,  and  have  need  of  nothing;  and  knowest  not 
that  thou  art  wretched,  and  miserable,  and  poor,  and  blind, 
and  nakedP ' 

The  sermon  straightway  began,  and  it  was  soon 
apparent  that  the  commentary  was  to  be  no  less  forcible 
than  the  text.  It  was  also  apparent  that  the  words  were, 
virtually,  not  directed  forward  in  the  line  in  which  they 
were  uttered,  but  through  the  chink  of  the  vestry-door, 
that  had  stood  shghtly  ajar  since  the  exit  of  the  young 
lady.  The  listeners  appeared  to  feel  this  no  less  than 
Somerset  did,  for  their  eyes,  one  and  all,  became  fixed 
upon  that  vestry  door  as  if  they  would  almost  push  it 
open  by  the  force  of  their  gazing.  The  preacher's  heart 
was  full  and  bitter ;  no  book  or  note  was  wanted  by  him  ; 
never  was  spontaneity  more  absolute  than  here.  It  was 
no  timid  reproof  of  the  ornamental  kind,  but  a  direct 
denunciation,  all  the  more  vigorous  perhaps  from  the 
limitation  of  mind  and  language  under  which  the  speaker 
laboured.  Yet,  fool  that  he  had  been  made  by  the 
candidate,  there  was  nothing  acrid  in  his  attack.  Genuine 
flashes  of  rhetorical  fire  were  occasionally  struck  by  that 
plain  and  simple  man,  who  knew  what  straightforward 
conduct  v;as,  and  who  did  not  know  the  illimitable 
caprice  of  a  woman's  mind. 

At  this  moment  there  was  not  in  the  whole  chapel  a 
person  whose  imagination  was  not  centred  on  what  was 
invisibly  taking  place  within  the  vestry.  The  thunder 
of  the  minister'^  eloquence  echoed,  of  course,  through 
the  weak  sister's  cavern  of  retreat  no  less  than  round 
the  public  assembly.  What  she  was  doing  inside  there 
— whether  listening  contritely,  or  haughtily  hastening  to 
put  on  her  things  and  get  away  from  the  chapel  and  all 
it  contained — was  obviously  the  thought  of  each  member. 
What  changes  were  tracing  themselves  upon  that  lovely 
face :  did  it  rise  to  phases  of  Raffaelesque  resignation 
or  sink  so  low  as  to  flush  and  frown  ?  was  Somerset's 
inquiry ;   and  a  half-explanation  occurred  when,  during 

J8 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

the  discourse,  the  door  which  had  been  ajar  Avas  gently 
pushed  to. 

Looking  on  as  a  stranger  it  seemed  to  him  more  than 
probable  that  this  young  woman's  power  of  persistence 
in  her  unexpected  repugnance  to  the  rite  was  strengthened 
by  wealth  and  position  of  some  sort,  and  was  not  the 
unassisted  gift  of  nature.  The  manner  of  her  arrival, 
and  her  dignified  bearing  before  the  assembly,  strength- 
ened the  belief.  A  woman  who  did  not  feel  something 
extraneous  to  her  mental  self  to  fall  back  upon  would 
be  so  far  overawed  by  the  people  and  the  crisis  as  not 
to  retain  sufficient  resolution  for  a  change  of  mind. 

The  sermon  ended,  the  minister  wiped  his  steaming 
face  and  turned  down  his  cuff's,  and  nods  and  sagacious 
glances  went  round.  Yet  many,  even  of  those  who  had 
presumably  passed  the  same  ordeal  with  credit,  exhibited 
gentler  judgment  than  the  preacher's  on  a  tergiversation 
of  which  they  had  probably  recognized  some  germ  in 
their  own  bosoms  v/hen  in  the  lady's  situation. 

For  Somerset  there  was  but  one  scene  :  the  imagined 
scene  of  the  girl  herself  as  she  sat  alone  in  the  vestry. 
The  fervent  congregation  rose  to  sing  again,  and  then 
Somerset  heard  a  slight  noise  on  his  left  hand  which 
caused  him  to  turn  his  head.  The  brougham,  which 
had  retired  into  the  field  to  wait,  was  back  again  at  the 
door :  the  subject  of  his  rumination  came  out  from  the 
chapel— not  in  her  mystic  robe  of  white,  but  dressed  in 
ordinary  fashionable  costume — followed  as  before  by  the 
attendant  with  other  articles  of  clothing  on  her  arm, 
including  the  white  gown.  Somerset  fancied  that  the 
younger  woman  was  drying  her  eyes  with  her  hand- 
kerchief, but  there  was  not  much  time  to  see :  they 
quickly  entered  the  carriage,  and  it  moved  on.  Then 
a  cat  suddenly  mewed,  and  he  saw  a  white  Persian 
standing  forlorn  where  the  carriage  had  been.  The 
door  was  opened,  the  cat  taken  in,  and  the  cnrringe 
drove  av/ay, 

19 


A   LAODICEAN 

The  stranger's  girlish  form  stamped  itself  deeply  on 
Somerset's  soul.  He  strolled  on  his  way  quite  oblivious 
to  the  fact  that  the  moon  had  just  risen,  and  that  the 
landscape  was  one  for  him  to  linger  over,  especially  if 
there  were  any  Gothic  architecture  in  the  line  of  the 
lunar  rays.  The  inference  was  that  though  this  girl 
must  be  of  a  serious  turn  of  mind,  wilfulness  was  not 
foreign  to  her  composition  :  and  it  was  probable  that 
her  daily  doings  evinced  without  much  abatement  by 
religion  the  unbroken  spirit  and  pride  of  Hfe  natural  to 
her  age. 

The  little  village  inn  at  which  Somerset  intended 
to  pass  the  night  lay  a  mile  further  on,  and  retracing 
his  way  up  to  the  stile  he  rambled  along  the  lane,  now 
beginning  to  be  streaked  like  a  zebra  with  the  shadows 
of  some  young  trees  that  edged  the  road.  But  his 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  other  side  of  the  way  by  a 
hum  as  of  a  night-bee,  which  arose  from  the  play  of  the 
breezes  over  a  single  wire  of  telegraph  running  parallel 
with  his  track  on  tall  poles  that  had  appeared  by  the 
road,  he  hardly  knew  when,  from  a  branch  route,  pro- 
bably leading  from  some  town  in  the  neighbourhood  to 
the  village  he  was  approaching.  He  did  not  know  the 
population  of  Sleeping-Green,  as  the  village  of  his  search 
was  called,  but  the  presence  of  this  mark  of  civilization 
seemed  to  signify  that  its  inhabitants  were  not  quite  so 
far  in  the  rear  of  their  age  as  might  be  imagined;  a 
glance  at  the  still  ungrassed  heap  of  earth  round  the 
foot  of  each  post  was,  however,  sufficient  to  show  that 
it  was  at  no  very  remote  period  that  they  had  made 
their  advance. 

Aided  by  this  friendly  wire  Somerset  had  no  difficulty 
in  keeping  his  course,  till  he  reached  a  point  in  the 
ascent  of  a  hill  at  which  the  telegraph  branched  off  from 
the  road,  passing  through  an  opening  in  the  hedge,  to 
strike  across  an  undulating  down,  while  the  road  wound 
round  to  the  left.     For  a  few  moments  Somerset  doubted 

20 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

and  stood  still.  The  wire  sang  on  overhead  with  dying 
falls  and  melodious  rises  that  invited  him  to  follow ; 
while  above  the  wire  rode  the  stars  in  their  courses,  the 
low  nocturn  of  the  former  seeming  to  be  the  voices  of 
those  stars, 

'Still  quiring  to  the  young-eyed  cherubim,' 

Recalling  himself  from  these  reflections  Somerset 
decided  to  follow  the  lead  of  the  wire.  It  was  not  the 
first  time  during  his  present  tour  that  he  had  found 
his  way  at  night  by  the  help  of  these  musical  threads 
which  the  post-office  authorities  had  erected  all  over  the 
country  for  quite  another  purpose  than  to  guide  belated 
travellers.  Plunging  with  it  across  the  down  he  came 
to  a  hedgeless  road  that  entered  a  park  or  chase,  which 
flourished  in  all  its  original  wildness.  Tufts  of  rushes 
and  brakes  of  fern  rose  from  the  hollows,  and  the  road 
was  in  places  half  overgrown  with  green,  as  if  it  had 
not  been  tended  for  many  years ;  so  much  so  that, 
where  shaded  by  trees,  he  found  some  difficulty  in 
keeping  it.  Though  he  had  noticed  the  remains  of  a 
deer-fence  further  back  no  deer  were  visible,  and  it  was 
scarcely  possible  that  there  should  be  any  in  the  existing 
state  of  things  :  but  rabbits  were  multitudinous,  every 
hillock  being  dotted  with  their  seated  figures  till  Somerset 
approached  and  sent  them  limping  into  their  burrows. 
The  road  next  wound  round  a  clump  of  underwood 
beside  which  lay  heaps  of  faggots  for  burning,  and  then 
there  appeared  against  the  sky  the  walls  and  towers  of  a 
castle,  half  ruin,  half  residence,  standing  on  an  eminence 
hard  by. 

Somerset  stopped  to  examine  it.  The  castle  was  not 
exceptionally  large,  but  it  had  all  the  characteristics  of 
its  most  important  fellows.  Irregular,  dilapidated,  and 
muffled  in  creepers  as  a  great  portion  of  it  was,  some  part 
— a  comparatively  modern  wing — was  inhabited,  for  a 

21 


A   LAODICEAN 

light  or  two  steadily  gleamed  from  some  upper  windows  ; 
in  others  a  reflection  of  the  moon  denoted  that  unbroken 
glass  yet  filled  their  casements.  Over  all  rose  the  keep, 
a  square  solid  tower  apparently  not  much  injured  by 
wars  or  weather,  and  darkened  with  ivy  on  one  side, 
wherein  wings  could  be  heard  flapping  uncertainly,  as  if 
they  belonged  to  a  bird  unable  to  find  a  proper  perch. 
Hissing  noises  supervened,  and  then  a  hoot,  proclaiming 
that  a  brood  of  young  owls  were  residing  there  in  the 
company  of  older  ones.  In  spite  of  the  habitable  and 
more  modern  v>ing,  neglect  and  decay  had  set  their 
mark  upon  the  outworks  of  the  pile,  unfitting  them  for 
a  more  positive  light  than  that  of  the  present  hour. 

He  walked  up  to  a  modern  arch  spanning  the  ditch 
— now  dry  and  green — over  which  the  drawljridge  once 
had  swung.  The  large  door  under  the  porter's  archway 
was  closed  and  locked.  While  standing  here  the  singing 
of  the  wire,  which  for  the  last  few  minutes  he  had  quite 
forgotten,  again  struck  upon  his  ear,  and  retreating  to  a 
convenient  place  he  observed  its  final  course :  from  the 
poles  amid  the  trees  it  leaped  across  the  moat,  over 
the  girdling  wall,  and  thence  by  a  tremendous  stretch 
towards  the  keep  where,  to  judge  by  sound,  it  vanished 
through  an  arrow-slit  into  the  interior.  This  fossil  of 
feudalism,  then,  was  the  journey's-end  of  the  wire,  and 
not  the  village  of  Sleeping-Green. 

There  was  a  certain  unexpectedness  in  the  fact  that 
the  hoary  memorial  of  a  stolid  antagonism  to  the  inter- 
change of  ideas,  the  monument  of  hard  distinctions  in 
blood  and  race,  of  deadly  mistrust  of  one's  neighbour  in 
spite  of  the  Church's  teaching,  and  of  a  sublime  uncon- 
sciousness of  any  other  force  than  a  brute  one,  should 
be  the  goal  of  a  machine  which  beyond  everything  may 
be  said  to  symbolize  cosmopolitan  views  and  the  intel- 
lectual and  moral  kinship  of  all  mankind.  In  that  light 
the  little  buzzing  wire  had  a  far  finer  significance  to  the 
student  Somerset  than  the  vast  walls  which  neighboured 

■zz 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

it.  liut  tiic  modern  fever  and  fret  which  consumes 
people  before  they  can  grow  old  was  also  signified  by 
the  wire ;  and  this  aspect  of  to-day  did  not  contrast 
well  with  the  fairer  side  of  feudalism — leisure,  light- 
hearted  generosity,  intense  friendships,  hawks,  hounds, 
revels,  healthy  complexions,  freedom  from  care,  and 
such  a  living  power  in  architectural  art  as  the  world 
may  never  again  see. 

Somerset  withdrew  till  neither  the  singing  of  the  wire 
nor  the  hisses  of  the  irritable  owls  could  be  heard  any 
more.  A  clock  in  the  castle  struck  ten,  and  he  recog- 
nized the  strokes  as  those  he  had  heard  when  sitting  on 
the  stile.  It  was  indispensable  that  he  should  retrace 
his  steps  and  push  on  to  Sleeping-Green  if  he  wished 
that  night  to  reach  his  lodgings,  which  had  been  secured 
by  letter  at  a  little  inn  in  the  straggling  line  of  roadside 
houses  called  by  the  above  name,  where  his  luggage  had 
by  this  time  probably  arrived.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
he  w^as  again  at  the  point  where  the  wire  left  the  road, 
and  following  the  highway  over  a  hill  he  saw  the  hamlet 
at  his  feet. 


A   LAODICEAN 


III 

OY  half-past  ten  the  next  morning  Somerset  was  once 
more  approaching  the  precincts  of  the  building  which 
had  interested  him  the  night  before.  Referring  to  his 
map  he  had  learnt  that  it  bore  the  name  of  Stancy  Castle 
or  Castle  de  Stancy ;  and  he  had  been  at  once  struck 
with  its  familiarity,  though  he  had  never  understood  its 
position  in  the  county,  believing  it  further  to  the  west. 
If  report  spoke  truly  there  was  some  excellent  vaulting 
in  the  interior,  and  a  change  of  study  from  ecclesiastical 
to  secular  Gothic  was  not  unwelcome  for  a  while. 

The  entrance-gate  was  open  now,  and  under  the 
archway  the  outer  ward  was  visible,  a  great  part  of  it 
being  laid  out  as  a  flower-garden.  This  was  in  process 
of  clearing  from  weeds  and  rubbish  by  a  set  of  gardeners, 
and  the  soil  was  so  encumbered  that  in  rooting  out 
the  weeds  such  few  hardy  flowers  as  still  remained  in 
the  beds  were  mostly  brought  up  with  them.  The 
groove  wherein  the  portcullis  had  run  was  as  fresh  as  if 
only  cut  yesterday,  the  very  tooling  of  the  stone  being 
visible.  Close  to  this  hung  a  bell-pull  formed  of  a  large 
wooden  acorn  attached  to  a  vertical  rod.  Somerset's 
application  brought  a  woman  from  the  porter's  door, 
who  informed  him  that  the  day  before  having  been  the 
weekly  show-day  for  visitors,  it  was  doubtful  if  he  could 
be  admitted  now. 

24 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

'  Who  is  at  home  ?  '  said  Somerset. 

'  Only  ]\Iiss  de  Stancy,'  the  porteress  replied. 

His  dread  of  being  considered  an  intruder  was  such 
that  he  thought  at  first  there  was  no  help  for  it  but  to 
wait  till  the  next  week.  But  he  had  already  through 
his  want  of  effrontery  lost  a  sight  of  many  interiors, 
whose  exhibition  would  have  been  rather  a  satisfaction 
to  the  inmates  than  a  trouble.  It  was  inconvenient  to 
wait ;  he  knew  nobody  in  the  neighbourhood  from  whom 
he  could  get  an  introductory  letter  :  he  turned  and  passed 
the  woman,  crossed  the  ward  where  the  gardeners  were 
at  work,  over  a  second  and  smaller  bridge,  and  up  a 
flight  of  stone  stairs,  open  to  the  sky,  along  whose  steps 
sunburnt  Tudor  soldiers  and  other  renowned  dead  men 
had  doubtless  many  times  walked.  It  led  to  the  prin- 
cipal door  on  this  side.  Thence  he  could  observe  the 
walls  of  the  lower  court  in  detail,  and  the  old  mosses 
with  which  they  were  padded — mosses  that  from  time 
immemorial  had  been  burnt  brown  every  summer,  and 
every  winter  had  grown  green  again.  The  arrow-slit 
and  the  electric  wire  that  entered  it,  like  a  worm  uneasy 
at  being  unearthed,  were  distinctly  visible  now.  So 
also  was  the  clock,  not,  as  he  had  supposed,  a  chrono- 
meter coeval  with  the  fortress  itself,  but  new  and  shining, 
and  bearing  the  name  of  a  recent  maker. 

The  door  was  opened  by  a  bland,  intensely  shaven 
man  out  of  livery,  who  took  Somerset's  name  and 
politely  worded  request  to  be  allowed  to  inspect  the 
architecture  of  the  more  public  portions  of  the  castle. 
He  pronounced  the  word  '  architecture '  in  the  tone  of 
a  man  who  knew  and  practised  that  art ;  '  for,'  he  said 
to  himself,  '  if  she  thinks  I  am  a  mere  idle  tourist,  it 
will  not  be  so  well.' 

No  such  uncomfortable  consequences  ensued.  Miss 
De  Stancy  had  great  pleasure  in  giving  Mr.  Somerset 
full  permission  to  walk  through  whatever  parts  of  the 
building  he  chose. 

25 


A   LAODICEAN 

He  followed  the  butler  into  the  inner  buildings  of  the 
fortress,  the  ponderous  thickness  of  whose  walls  made 
itself  felt  like  a  physical  pressure.  An  internal  stone 
staircase,  ranged  round  four  sides  of  a  square,  was  next 
revealed,  leading  at  the  top  of  one  flight  into  a  spacious 
hall,  which  seemed  to  occupy  the  whole  area  of  the 
keep.  From  this  apartment  a  corridor  floored  with 
black  oak  led  to  the  more  modern  wing,  where  light  and 
air  were  treated  in  a  less  gingerly  fashion. 

Here  passages  were  broader  than  in  the  oldest  por- 
tion, and  upholstery  enlisted  in  the  service  of  the  fine 
arts  hid  to  a  great  extent  the  coldness  of  the  walls. 

Somerset  was  now  left  to  himself,  and  roving  freely 
from  room  to  room  he  found  time  to  inspect  the 
different  objects  of  interest  that  abounded  there.  Not 
all  the  chambers,  even  of  the  habitable  division,  were 
in  use  as  dwelling-rooms,  though  these  were  still  numer- 
ous enough  for  the  wants  of  an  ordinary  country  family. 
In  a  long  gallery  with  a  coved  ceiling  of  arabesques 
which  had  once  been  gilded,  hung  a  series  of  paintings 
representing  the  past  personages  of  the  De  Stancy  line. 
It  was  a  remarkable  array — even  more  so  on  account 
of  the  incredibly  neglected  condition  of  the  canvases 
than  for  the  artistic  peculiarities  they  exhibited.  Many 
of  the  frames  were  dropping  apart  at  their  angles,  and 
some  of  the  canvas  v.as  so  dingy  that  the  face  of  the 
person  depicted  was  only  distinguishable  as  the  moon 
through  mist.  For  the  colour  they  had  now  they  might 
have  been  painted  during  an  eclipse ;  vv-hile,  to  judge 
by  the  webs  tying  them  to  the  wall,  the  spiders  that  ran 
up  and  down  their  backs  were  such  as  to  make  the  fair 
originals  shudder  in  their  graves. 

He  wondered  how  many  of  the  lofty  foreheads  and 
smiling  lips  of  this  pictorial  pedigree  could  be  credited 
as  true  reflections  of  their  prototypes.  Some  were 
wilfully  false,  no  doubt ;  many  more  so  by  unavoidable 
accident  and  want   of  skill.     Somerset   felt  that  it  rc- 

26 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

quired  a  profounder  mind  than  his  to  disinter  from  the 
lumber  of  conventionality  the  lineaments  that  really  sat 
in  the  painter's  presence,  and  to  discover  their  history 
behind  the  curtain  of  mere  tradition. 

The  painters  of  this  long  collection  were  those  who 
usually  appear  in  such  places  ;  Holbein,  Jansen,  and 
Vandyck ;  Sir  Peter,  Sir  Geoffrey,  Sir  Joshua,  and  Sir 
Thomas.  Their  sitters,  too,  had  mostly  been  sirs ;  Sir 
William,  Sir  John,  or  Sir  George  De  Stancy — some 
undoubtedly  having  a  nobility  stamped  upon  them 
beyond  that  conferred  by  their  rol^es  and  orders ;  and 
others  not  so  fortunate.  Their  respective  ladies  hung 
by  their  sides — feeble  and  watery,  or  fat  and  comfort- 
able, as  the  case  might  be ;  also  their  fathers  and 
mothers-in-law,  their  brothers  and  remoter  relatives ; 
their  contemporary  reigning  princes,  and  their  intimate 
friends.  Of  the  De  Stancys  pure  there  ran  through  the 
collection  a  mark  by  which  they  might  surely  have  been 
recognized  as  members  of  one  family ;  this  feature  being 
the  upper  part  of  the  nose.  Every  one,  even  if  lacking 
other  points  in  common,  had  the  special  indent  at  this 
point  in  the  face — sometimes  moderate  in  degree,  some- 
times excessive. 

While  looking  at  the  pictures — which,  though  not  in 
his  regular  line  of  study,  interested  Somerset  more  than 
the  architecture,  because  of  their  singular  dilapidation, 
it  occurred  to  his  mind  that  he  had  in  his  youth  been 
schoolfellow  for  a  very  short  time  with  a  pleasant  boy 
bearing  a  surname  attached  to  one  of  the  paintings — 
the  name  of  Ravensbury.  The  boy  had  vanished  he 
knew  not  how — he  thought  he  had  been  removed  from 
school  suddenly  on  account  of  ill  health.  But  the  re- 
collection was  vague,  and  Somerset  moved  on  to  the 
rooms  above  and  below.  In  addition  to  the  architec- 
tural details  of  which  he  had  as  yet  obtained  but 
glimj)ses,  there  was  a  great  collection  of  old  movables 
and  other  domestic  art-work — all  more  than  a  century 

27 


A   LAODICEAN 

old,  and  mostly  lying  as  lumber.  There  were  suites  of 
tapestry  hangings,  common  and  fine  ;  green  and  scarlet 
leather-work,  on  which  the  gilding  was  still  but  little 
injured ;  venerable  damask  curtains ;  quilted  silk  table- 
covers,  ebony  cabinets,  worked  satin  window-cushions, 
carved  bedsteads,  and  embroidered  bed-furniture  which 
had  apparently  screened  no  sleeper  for  these  many  years. 
Downstairs  there  was  also  an  interesting  collection  of 
armour,  together  with  several  huge  trunks  and  coffers. 
A  great  many  of  them  had  been  recently  taken  out  and 
cleaned,  as  if  a  long  dormant  interest  in  them  were 
suddenly  revived.  Doubtless  they  were  those  which 
had  been  used  by  the  living  originals  of  the  phantoms 
that  looked  down  from  the  frames. 

This  excellent  hoard  of  suggestive  designs  for  wood- 
work, metal-work,  and  work  of  other  sorts,  induced 
Somerset  to  divert  his  studies  from  the  ecclesiastical 
direction,  to  acquire  some  new  ideas  from  the  objects 
here  for  domestic  application.  Yet  for  the  present  he 
was  inclined  to  keep  his  sketch-book  closed  and  his 
ivory  rule  folded,  and  devote  himself  to  a  general 
survey.  Emerging  from  the  ground-floor  by  a  small 
doorway,  he  found  himself  on  a  terrace  to  the  north- 
east, and  on  the  other  side  than  that  by  which  he  had 
entered.  It  was  bounded  by  a  parapet  breast  high, 
over  which  a  view  of  the  distant  country  met  the  eye, 
stretching  from  the  foot  of  the  slope  to  a  distance  of 
many  miles.  Somerset  went  and  leaned  over,  and 
looked  down  upon  the  tops  of  the  bushes  beneath. 
The  prospect  included  the  village  he  had  passed  through 
on  the  previous  day :  and  amidst  the  green  lights  and 
shades  of  the  meadows  he  could  discern  the  red  brick 
chapel  whose  recalcitrant  inmate  had  so  engrossed  him. 

Before  his  attention  had  long  strayed  over  the  in- 
cident which  romanticized  that  utilitarian  structure,  he 
became  aware  that  he  was  not  the  only  person  who  was 
looking  from  the  terrace  towards  that  point  of  the  com- 

28 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

pass.  At  the  right-hand  corner,  in  a  niche  of  the  curtain- 
wall,  reclined  a  girlish  shape ;  and  asleep  on  the  bench 
over  which  she  leaned  was  a  white  cat — the  identical 
Persian  as  it  seemed — that  had  been  taken  into  the 
carriage  at  the  chapel-door. 

Somerset  began  to  muse  on  the  probability  or  other- 
wise of  the  backsliding  Baptist  and  this  young  lady 
resulting  in  one  and  the  same  person ;  and  almost 
■\\'ithout  knowing  it  he  found  himself  deeply  hoping  for 
such  a  unity.  The  object  of  his  inspection  was  idly 
leaning,  and  this  somewhat  disguised  her  figure.  It 
might  have  been  tall  or  short,  curvilinear  or  angular. 
She  carried  a  light  sunshade  which  she  fitfully  twirled 
until,  thrusting  it  back  over  her  shoulder,  her  head  was 
revealed  sufficiently  to  show  that  she  v.'ore  no  hat  or 
bonnet.  This  token  of  her  being  an  inmate  of  the 
castle,  and  not  a  visitor,  rather  damped  his  expectations  : 
but  he  persisted  in  believing  her  look  towards  the  chapel 
must  have  a  meaning  in  it,  till  she  suddenly  stood  erect, 
and  revealed  herself  as  short  in  stature — almost  dumpy 
■ — at  the  same  time  giving  him  a  distinct  view  of  her 
profile.  She  was  not  at  all  like  the  heroine  of  the 
chapel.  He  saw  the  dinted  nose  of  the  De  Stancys 
outlined  with  Holbein  shadowlessness  against  the  blue- 
green  of  the  distant  wood.  It  was  not  the  De  Stancy 
face  with  all  its  original  specialities  :  it  was,  so  to  speak, 
a  defective  reprint  of  that  face  :  for  the  nose  tried  hard 
to  turn  up  and  deal  utter  confusion  to  the  lamily  shape. 

As  for  the  rest  of  the  countenance,  Somerset  was 
obliged  to  own  that  it  was  not  beautiful :  Nature  had 
done  there  many  things  that  she  ought  not  to  have 
done,  and  left  undone  much  that  she  should  have 
executed.  It  would  have  been  decidedly  plain  but  for 
a  precious  quality  which  no  perfection  of  chiselling  can 
give  when  the  temperament  denies  it,  and  which  no 
facial  irregularity  can  take  away — a  tender  affectionate- 
ness  which  might  almost  be  called  yearning;  such  as 

29 


A    LAODICEAN 

is  often  seen  in  the  women  of  Correggio  when  they  are 
painted  in  profile.  But  the  plain  features  of  Miss  De 
Stancy — who  she  undoubtedly  was — were  rather  severely 
handled  by  Somerset's  judgment  owing  to  his  impression 
of  the  previous  night.  A  beauty  of  a  sort  would  have 
been  lent  by  the  flexuous  contours  of  the  mobile  parts 
but  for  that  unfortunate  condition  the  poor  girl  was 
l)urdened  with,  of  having  to  hand  on  a  traditional 
feature  with  which  she  did  not  find  herself  otherwise 
in  harmony. 

She  glanced  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  showed  by 
an  imperceptible  movement  that  he  had  made  his 
presence  felt.  Not  to  embarrass  her  Somerset  hastened 
to  withdraw,  at  the  same  time  that  she  passed  round 
to  the  other  part  of  the  terrace,  followed  by  the  cat,  in 
whom  .Somerset  could  imagine  a  certain  denominational 
cast  of  countenance,  notwithstanding  her  company.  But 
as  white  cats  are  much  alike  each  other  at  a  distance, 
it  was  reasonable  to  suppose  this  creature  was  not  the 
same  one  as  that  possessed  by  the  beauty. 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 


IV 

11 E  descended  the  stone  stairs  to  a  lower  story  of  the 
castle,  in  which  was  a  crypt-like  hall  covered  by  vaulting 
of  exceptional  and  massive  ingenuity  : 

'  Built  ere  the  art  was  known, 
By  pointed  aisle  and  shafted  stalk 
The  arcades  of  an  alleyed  walk 

To  emulate  in  stone.' 

It  happened  that  the  central  pillar  whereon  the  vaults 
rested,  reputed  to  exhibit  some  of  the  most  hideous 
grotesques  in  England  upon  its  capital,  vv-as  within  a 
locked  door.  Somerset  was  tempted  to  ask  a  servant 
for  permission  to  open  it,  till  he  heard  that  the  inner 
room  was  temporarily  used  for  plate,  the  key  being  kept 
by  Miss  De  Stancy,  at  which  he  said  no  more.  But 
afterwards  the  active  housemaid  redescended  the  stone 
steps ;  she  entered  the  crypt  with  a  bunch  of  keys  in 
one  hand,  and  in  the  other  a  candle,  followed  by  the 
young  lady  whom  Somerset  had  seen  on  the  terrace. 

'  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  unlock  anything  you  may 
want  to  see.  So  few  people  take  any  real  interest  in 
what  is  here  that  we  do  not  leave  it  open.' 

Somerset  expressed  his  tlianks. 

Miss  De  Stancy,  a  little  to  his  surprise,  liad  a  touch 
of  rusticity  in  her  manner,  and  that  forced  absence  of 

31 


A    LAODICEAN 

reserve  which  seclusion  from  society  lends  to  young 
women  more  frequently  than  not.  She  seemed  glad  to 
have  something  to  do;  the  arrival  of  Somerset  was 
plainly  an  event  sufficient  to  set  some  little  mark  upon 
her  day.  Deception  had  been  written  on  the  faces  of 
those  frowning  walls  in  their  implying  the  insignificance 
of  Somerset,  when  he  found  them  tenanted  only  by  this 
little  woman  whose  life  was  narrower  than  his  own. 

'  We  have  not  been  here  long,'  continued  Miss  De 
Stancy,  '  and  that's  why  everything  is  in  such  a  dilapidated 
and  confused  condition.' 

Somerset  entered  the  dark  store-closet,  thinking  less 
of  the  ancient  pillar  revealed  by  tlie  light  of  the  candle 
than  what  a  singular  remark  the  latter  was  to  come  from 
a  member  of  the  family  which  appeared  to  have  been 
there  five  centuries.  He  held  the  candle  above  his 
head,  and  walked  round,  and  presently  Miss  De  Stancy 
came  back. 

'  There  is  another  vault  below,'  she  said,  with  the 
severe  face  of  a  young  woman  who  speaks  only  because 
it  is  absolutely  necessary.  '  Perhaps  you  are  not  aware 
of  it  ?  It  was  the  dungeon  :  if  you  wish  to  go  down 
there  too,  the  servant  will  show  you  the  way.  It  is  not 
at  all  ornamental :  rough,  unhewn  arches  and  clumsy 
piers.' 

Somerset  thanked  her,  and  would  perhaps  take 
advantage  of  her  kind  offer  when  he  had  examined  the 
spot  where  he  was,  if  it  were  not  causing  inconvenience. 

'  No ;  I  am  sure  Paula  will  be  glad  to  know  that 
anybody  thinks  it  interesting  to  go  down  there — which 
is  more  than  she  does  herself.' 

Some  obvious  inquiries  were  suggested  by  this,  but 
Somerset  said,  '  I  have  seen  the  pictures,  and  have  been 
much  struck  by  them  ;  partly,'  he  added,  with  some 
hesitation,  '  because  one  or  two  of  them  reminded  me 
of  a  schoolfellow — I  think  his  name  was  John  Ravens- 
bury  ? ' 

32 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

'  Yes,'  she  said,  almost  eagerly.     '  He  was  my  cousin! 

'  So  that  we  are  not  quite  strangers  ?  ' 

'  But  he  is  dead  now.  .  .  .  He  was  unfortunate :  he 
was  mostly  spoken  of  as  "  that  unlucky  boy."  .  .  .  You 
know,  I  suppose,  Mr.  Somerset,  why  the  paintings  are 
in  such  a  decaying  state  ! — it  is  owing  to  the  peculiar 
treatment  of  the  castle  during  Mr.  Wilkins's  time.  He 
was  blind ;  so  one  can  imagine  he  did  not  appreciate 
such  things  as  there  are  here.' 

'  The  castle  has  been  shut  up,  you  mean  ? ' 

*  O  yes,  for  many  years.  But  it  will  not  be  so  again. 
We  are  going  to  have  the  pictures  cleaned,  and  the 
frames  mended,  and  the  old  pieces  of  furniture  put  in 
their  proper  places.  It  will  be  very  nice  then.  Did 
you  see  those  in  the  east  closet  ? ' 

'  I  have  only  seen  those  in  the  gallery.' 

'  I  will  just  show  you  the  way  to  the  others,  if  you 
would  like  to  see  them  ?  ' 

They  ascended  to  the  room  designated  the  east 
closet.  The  paintings  here,  mostly  of  smaller  size, 
were  in  a  better  condition,  owing  to  the  fact  that  they 
were  hung  on  an  inner  wall,  and  had  hence  been  kept 
free  from  damp.  Somerset  inc^uired  the  names  and 
histories  of  one  or  two. 

'  I  really  don't  quite  know,'  Miss  De  Stancy  replied 
after  some  thought.  '  But  Paula  knows,  I  am  sure.  I 
don't  study  them  much — I  don't  see  the  use  of  it.' 
She  swung  her  sunshade,  so  that  it  fell  open,  and 
turned  it  up  till  it  fell  shut.  '  I  have  never  been  able 
to  give  much  attention  to  ancestors,'  she  added,  with 
her  eyes  on  the  parasol. 

'  These  are  your  ancestors  ?  '  he  asked,  for  her  posi- 
tion and  tone  were  matters  which  perplexed  him.  In 
spite  of  the  family  likeness  and  other  details  he  could 
scarcely  believe  this  frank  and  communicative  country 
maiden  to  be  the  modern  representative  of  the  De 
Stancys. 

33  C 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  O  yes,  they  certainly  are,'  she  said,  laughing. 
'  People  say  I  am  like  them  :  I  don't  know  if  I  am — 
well,  yes,  I  know  I  am  :  I  can  see  that,  of  course,  any 
day.  But  they  have  gone  from  my  family,  and  perhaps 
it  is  just  as  well  that  they  should  have  gone.  ,  .  .  They 
are  useless,'  she  added,  with  serene  conclusiveness, 

'  Ah  !  they  have  gone,  have  they  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  castle  and  furniture  went  together :  it  was 
long  ago — long  before  I  was  born.  It  doesn't  seem  to 
me  as  if  the  place  ever  belonged  to  a  relative  of  mine.' 

Somerset  corrected  his  smiling  manner  to  one  of 
solicitude. 

*  But  you  live  here.  Miss  De  Stancy  ? ' 

'Yes — a  great  deal  now;  though  sometimes  I  go 
home  to  sleep.' 

'  This  is  home  to  you,  and  not  home  ?  ' 

'  I  live  here  with  Paula — my  friend  :  I  have  not 
been  here  long,  neither  has  she.  For  the  first  six 
months  after  her  father's  death  she  did  not  come  here 
at  all.' 

They  walked  on,  gazing  at  the  walls,  till  the  young 
man  said :  '  I  fear  I  may  be  making  some  mistake : 
but  I  am  sure  you  will  pardon  my  inquisitiveness  this 
once.      IV/w  is  Paula  ?  ' 

'  Ah,  you  don't  know  !  Of  course  you  don't — local 
changes  don't  get  talked  of  far  away.  She  is  the  owner 
of  this  castle  and  estate.  My  father  sold  it  when  he 
was  quite  a  young  man,  years  before  I  was  born,  and 
not  long  after  his  father's  death.  It  was  purchased  by 
a  man  named  Wilkins,  a  rich  man  who  became  blind 
soon  after  he  had  bought  it,  and  never  lived  here ;  so  it 
was  left  uncared  for.' 

She  went  out  upon  the  terrace ;  and  without  exactly 
knowing  why,  Somerset  followed. 

*  Your  friend ' 

'  Has  only  come  here  quite  recently.  She  is  away 
from  home   to-day.   ...  It  was   very  sad,'   murmured 

34 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

the  young  girl  thoughtfully.  '  No  sooner  had  Mr. 
Power  bought  it  of  the  representatives  of  Mr.  Wilkin s 
— almost  immediately  indeed — than  he  died  from  a 
chill  caught  after  a  warm  bath.  On  account  of  that  she 
did  not  take  possession  for  several  months ;  and  even 
now  she  has  only  had  a  few  rooms  prepared  as  a  tem- 
porary residence  till  she  can  think  what  to  do.  Poor 
thing,  it  is  sad  to  be  left  alone  ! ' 

Somerset  heedfuUy  remarked  that  he  thought  he 
recognized  that  name  Power,  as  one  he  had  seen  lately, 
somewhere  or  other. 

'  Perhaps  you  have  been  hearing  of  her  father.  Do 
you  know  what  he  was  ?  ' 

Somerset  did  not. 

She  looked  across  the  distant  country,  where  undula- 
tions of  dark-green  foliage  formed  a  prospect  extending 
for  miles.  And  as  she  watched,  and  Somerset's  eyes, 
led  by  hers,  watched  also,  a  white  streak  of  steam,  thin 
as  a  cotton  thread,  could  be  discerned  ploughing  that 
green  expanse.  '  Her  father  made  that^  Miss  De 
Stancy  said',  directing  her  finger  towards  the  object. 

'  That  what  ?  ' 

'  That  railway.  He  was  Mr.  John  Power,  the  great 
railway  contractor.  And  it  was  through  making  the 
railway  that  he  discovered  this  castle — the  railway  was 
diverted  a  little  on  its  account.' 

'A  clash  between  ancient  and  modern.' 

'Yes,  but  he  took  an  interest  in  the  locality  long 
before  he  purchased  the  estate.  And  he  built  the  people 
a  chapel  on  a  bit  of  freehold  he  bought  for  them.  He 
was  a  great  Nonconformist,  a  staunch  Baptist  up  to  the 
day  of  his  death — a  much  stauncher  one,'  she  said 
significantly,  'than  his  daughter  is.' 

'  Ah,  I  begin  to  spot  her ! ' 

*  You  have  heard  about  the  baptism  ? ' 

'  I  know  something  of  it.' 

'  Her  conduct  has  given  mortal  offence  to  the  scattered 


A   LAODICEAN 

people  of  the  denomination  that  her  father  was  at  such 
pains  to  unite  into  a  body.' 

Somerset  could  guess  the  remainder,  and  in  thinking 
over  the  circumstances  did  not  state  what  he  had  seen. 
She  added,  as  if  disappointed  at  his  want  of  curiosity — 

'  She  would  not  submit  to  the  rite  when  it  came 
to  the  point.  The  water  looked  so  cold  and  dark 
and  fearful,  she  said,  that  she  could  not  do  it  to  save 
her  life.' 

'  Surely  she  should  have  known  her  mind  before  she 
had  gone  so  far  ?  '  Somerset's  words  had  a  condemna- 
tory form,  but  perhaps  his  actual  feeling  was  that  if  Miss 
Power  had  known  her  own  mind,  she  would  have  not 
interested  him  half  so  much. 

'  Paula's  own  mind  had  nothing  to  do  with  it ! '  said 
Miss  De  Stancy,  warming  up  to  staunch  partizanship 
in  a  moment.  '  It  was  all  undertaken  by  her  from  a 
mistaken  sense  of  duty.  It  was  her  father's  dying  wish 
that  she  should  make  public  profession  of  her — what  do 
you  call  it — of  the  denomination  she  belonged  to,  as 
soon  as  she  felt  herself  fit  to  do  it :  so  when  he  was  dead 
she  tried  and  tried,  and  didn't  get  any  more  fit ;  and  at 
last  she  screwed  herself  up  to  the  pitch,  and  thought  she 
must  undergo  the  ceremony  out  of  pure  reverence  for 
his  memory.  It  was  very  short-sighted  of  her  father  to 
put  her  in  such  a  position  :  because  she  is  now  very  sad, 
as  she  feels  she  can  never  try  again  after  such  a  sermon 
as  was  delivered  against  her.' 

Somerset  presumed  that  Miss  Power  need  not  have 
heard  this  Knox  or  Bossuet  of  hers  if  she  had  chosen  to 
go  away  ? 

'  She  did  not  hear  it  in  the  face  of  the  congregation ; 
but  from  the  vestry.  She  told  me  some  of  it  when  she 
reached  home.  AVould  you  believe  it,  the  man  who 
preached  so  bitterly  is  a  tenant  of  hers  ?  I  said,  '  Surely 
you  will  turn  him  out  of  his  house  ?  '—But  she  answered, 
in  her  calm,  deep,  nice  way,  that  she  supposed  he  had  a 

36 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

perfect  right  to  preach  against  her,  that  she  could  not  in 
justice  molest  him  at  all.  I  wouldn't  let  him  stay  if  the 
house  were  mine.  But  she  has  often  before  allowed 
him  to  scold  her  from  the  pulpit  in  a  smaller  way — once 
it  was  about  an  expensive  dress  she  had  worn — not 
mentioning  her  by  name,  you  know ;  but  all  the  people 
are  quite  aware  that  it  is  meant  for  her,  because  only 
one  person  of  her  wealth  or  position  belongs  to  the 
Baptist  body  in  this  county.' 

Somerset  was  looking  at  the  homely  affectionate  face 
of  the  little  speaker.  '  You  are  her  good  friend,  I  am 
sure,'  he  remarked. 

She  looked  into  the  distant  air  with  tacit  admission 
of  the  impeachment.  '  So  would  you  be  if  you  knew 
her,'  she  said ;  and  a  blush  slowly  rose  to  her  cheek,  as 
if  the  person  spoken  of  had  been  a  lover  rather  than  a 
friend. 

'  But  you  are  not  a  Baptist  any  more  than  I  ? ' 
continued  Somerset. 

'  O  no.  And  I  never  knew  one  till  I  knew  Paula. 
I  think  they  are  very  nice ;  though  I  sometimes  wish 
Paula  was  not  one.  but  the  religion  of  reasonable 
persons.' 

They  walked  on,  and  came  opposite  to  where  the 
telegraph  emerged  from  the  trees,  leapt  over  the  parapet, 
and  up  through  the  loophole  into  the  interior. 

'  That  looks  strange  in  such  a  building,'  said  her 
companion. 

'  Miss  Power  had  it  put  up  to  know  the  latest  news 
from  town.  It  costs  six  pounds  a  mile.  She  can  work 
it  herself,  beautifully :  and  so  can  I,  but  not  so  well. 
It  was  a  great  delight  to  learn.  Miss  Power  was  so 
interested  at  fii-st  that  she  was  sending  messages  from 
morning  till  night.     And  did  you  hear  the  new  clock  ?  ' 

'  Is  it  a  new  one  ? — Yes,  I  heard  it.' 

'  The  old  one  was  quite  worn  out ;  so  Paula  has  put 
it  in  the  cellar,  and  had  this  new  one  made,  though  it 

37 


A   LAODICEAN 

Still  strikes  on  the  old  bell.  It  tells  the  seconds,  but 
the  old  one,  which  my  very  great  grandfather  erected  in 
the  eighteenth  century,  only  told  the  hours.  Paula  says 
that  time,  being  so  much  more  valuable  now,  must  of 
course  be  cut  up  into  smaller  pieces.' 

'  She  does  not  appear  to  be  much  impressed  by  the 
spirit  of  this  ancient  pile.' 

Miss  De  Stancy  shook  her  head  too  slightly  to  express 
absolute  negation. 

'  Do  you  wish  to  come  tlxrough  this  door  ? '  she 
asked.  '  There  is  a  singular  chimney-piece  m  the 
kitchen,  which  is  considered  a  unique  example  of  its 
kind,  though  I  myself  don't  know  enough  about  it  to 
have  an  opinion  on  the  subject.' 

When  they  had  looked  at  the  corbelled  chimney-piece 
they  returned  to  the  hall,  where  his  eye  was  caught  anew 
by  a  large  map  that  he  had  conned  for  some  time  when 
alone,  without  being  able  to  divine  the  locality  repre- 
sented. It  was  called  '  General  Plan  of  the  Town,' 
and  showed  streets  and  open  spaces  corresponding  with 
nothing  he  had  seen  in  the  county. 

*  Is  that  town  here  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  It  is  not  anywhere  but  in  Paula's  brain  ;  she  has  laid 
it  out  from  her  own  design.  The  site  is  supposed  to 
be  near  our  railway  station,  just  across  there,  where  the 
land  belongs  to  her.  She  is  going  to  grant  cheap  building 
leases,  and  develop  the  manufacture  of  pottery.' 

'  Pottery — how  very  practical  she  must  be  !  ' 

'  O  no  !  no  ! '  replied  Miss  De  Stancy,  in  tones  show- 
ing how  supremely  ignorant  he  must  be  of  Miss  Power's 
nature  if  he  characterized  her  in  those  terms.  '  It  is 
Greek  pottery  she  means — Plellenic  pottery  she  tells  me 
to  call  it,  only  I  forget.  There  is  beautiful  clay  at  the 
place,  her  father  told  her :  he  found  it  in  making  the 
railway  tunnel.  She  has  visited  the  British  Museum, 
continental  museums,  and  Greece,  and  Spain :  and 
hopes  to  imitate  the  old  fictile  work  in  time,  especially 

58 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

the  Greek  of  the  best  period,  four  hundred  years  after 
Christ,  or  before  Christ — I  forget  which  it  was  Paula 
said.  .  .  .  O  no,  she  is  not  practical  in  the  sense  you 
mean,  at  all.' 

'  A  mixed  young  lady,  rather.' 

Miss  De  Stancy  appeared  unable  to  settle  whether 
this  new  definition  of  her  dear  friend  should  be  accepted 
as  kindly,  or  disallowed  as  decidedly  sarcastic.  '  You 
would  like  her  if  you  knew  her,'  she  insisted,  in  half 
tones  of  pique ;  after  which  she  walked  on  a  few  steps. 

'  I  think  very  highly  of  her,'  said  Somerset. 

'  And  I !  And  yet  at  one  time  I  could  never  have 
believed  that  I  should  have  been  her  friend.  One  is 
prejudiced  at  first  against  people  who  are  reported  to 
have  such  differences  in  feeling,  associations,  and  habit, 
as  she  seemed  to  have  from  mine.  But  it  has  not 
stood  in  the  least  in  the  way  of  our  liking  each  other. 
I  believe  the  difference  makes  us  the  more  united.' 

'  It  says  a  great  deal  for  the  liberality  of  both,' 
answered  Somerset  warmly.  '  Heaven  send  us  more  of 
the  same  sort  of  people  !  They  are  not  too  numerous 
at  present.' 

As  this  remark  called  for  no  reply  from  Miss  De 
Stancy,  she  took  advantage  of  an  opportunity  to  leave 
him  alone,  first  repeating  her  permission  to  him  to 
wander  where  he  would.  He  walked  about  for  some 
time,  sketch-book  in  hand,  but  was  conscious  that  his 
interest  did  not  lie  much  in  the  architecture.  In  pass- 
ing along  the  corridor  of  an  upper  floor  he  observed 
an  open  door,  through  which  was  visible  a  room  con- 
taining one  of  the  finest  Renaissance  cabinets  he  had 
ever  seen.  It  was  impossible,  on  close  examination, 
to  do  justice  to  it  in  a  hasty  sketch ;  it  would  be 
necessar}'  to  measure  every  line  if  he  would  bring  away 
anything  of  utility  to  him  as  a  designer.  Deciding  to 
reserve  this  gem  for  another  opportunity  he  cast  his 
eyes  round  the  room  and   blushed  a  little.      Without 

39 


A   LAODICEAN 

knowing  it  he  had  intruded  into  the  absent  Miss  Paula's 
own  particular  set  of  chambers,  including  a  boudoir  and 
sleeping  apartment.  On  the  tables  of  the  sitting-room 
were  most  of  the  popular  papers  and  periodicals  that 
he  knew,  not  only  English,  but  from  Paris,  Italy,  and 
America.  Satirical  prints,  though  they  did  not  unduly 
preponderate,  were  not  wanting.  Besides  these  there 
were  books  from  a  London  circulating  library,  paper- 
covered  light  literature  in  French  and  choice  Italian, 
and  the  latest  monthly  reviews ;  while  between  the  two 
windows  stood  the  telegraph  apparatus  whose  wire  had 
been  the  means  of  bringing  him  hither. 

These  things,  ensconced  amid  so  much  of  the  old 
and  hoary,  were  as  if  a  stray  hour  from  the  nineteenth 
century  had  wandered  like  a  butterfly  into  the  thirteenth, 
and  lost  itself  there. 

The  door  between  this  ante-chamber  and  the  sleeping- 
room  stood  open.  Without  venturing  to  cross  the 
threshold,  for  he  felt  that  he  would  be  abusing  hospi- 
tality to  go  so  far,  Somerset  looked  in  for  a  moment. 
It  was  a  pretty  place,  and  seemed  to  have  been  hastily 
fitted  up.  In  a  corner,  overhung  by  a  blue  and  white 
canopy  of  silk,  was  a  little  cot,  hardly  large  enough  to 
impress  the  character  of  bedroom  upon  the  old  place. 
Upon  a  counterpane  lay  a  parasol  and  a  silk  necker- 
chief. On  the  other  side  of  the  room  was  a  tall  mirror 
of  startling  newness,  draped  like  the  bedstead,  in  blue 
and  white.  Thrown  at  random  upon  the  floor  was  a 
pair  of  satin  slippers  that  would  have  fitted  Cinderella. 
A  dressing-gown  lay  across  a  settee ;  and  opposite,  upon 
a  small  easy-chair  in  the  same  blue  and  white  livery, 
were  a  Bible,  the  Baptist  Magazine,  Wardlaw  on  Infant 
Baptism,  Walford's  County  Families,  and  the  Court 
Journal.  On  and  over  the  mantelpiece  were  nicknacks 
of  various  descriptions,  and  photographic  portraits  of  the 
artistic,  scientific,  and  literary  celebrities  of  the  day. 

A   dressing-room   lay  beyond ;    but,  becoming    con- 

40 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

scious  that  his  study  of  ancient  architecture  would 
hardly  bear  stretching  further  in  that  direction,  Mr. 
Somerset  retreated  to  the  outside,  obliviously  passing  by 
the  gem  of  Renaissance  that  had  led  him  in. 

'  She  affects  blue,'  he  was  thinking.  '  Then  she  is 
fair.' 

On  looking  up,  some  time  later,  at  the  new  clock 
that  told  the  seconds,  he  found  that  the  hours  at  his 
disposal  for  work  had  flown  without  his  having  trans- 
ferred a  single  feature  of  the  building  or  furniture  to  his 
sketch-book.  Before  leaving  he  sent  in  for  permission 
to  come  again,  and  then  walked  across  the  fields  to 
the  inn  at  Sleeping-Green,  reflecting  less  upon  Miss  De 
Stancy  (so  little  force  of  presence  had  she  possessed) 
than  upon  the  modern  flower  in  a  mediaeval  flower-pot 
whom  Miss  De  Stancy's  information  had  brought  before 
him,  and  upon  the  incongruities  that  were  daily  shaping 
themselves  in  the  world  under  the  great  modern  fluc- 
tuations of  classes  and  creeds. 

Somerset  was  still  full  of  the  subject  when  he  arrived 
at  the  end  of  his  walk,  and  he  fancied  that  some  loungers 
at  the  bar  of  the  inn  were  discussing  the  heroine  of  the 
chapel-scene  just  at  the  moment  of  his  entry.  On  this 
account,  when  the  landlord  came  to  clear  away  the 
dinner,  Somerset  was  led  to  inquire  of  him,  by  way  of 
opening  a  conversation,  if  there  v»cre  many  Baptists  in 
the  neighbourhood. 

The  landlord  (who  was  a  serious  man  on  the  surface, 
though  he  occasionally  smiled  beneath)  replied  that 
there  were  a  great  many — far  more  than  the  average  in 
country  parishes.  '  Even  here,  in  my  house,  now,'  he 
added,  '  when  volks  get  a  drop  of  drink  into  'em,  and 
their  feelings  rise  to  a  zong,  some  man  will  strike  up  a 
hymn  jjy  preference.  But  I  find  no  fault  with  that ;  for 
though  'tis  hardly  human  nature  to  be  so  calculating  in 
yer  cups,  a  feller  may  as  well  sing  to  gain  something  as 
sing  to  waste.' 

41 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  How  do  you  account  for  there  being  so  many  ? ' 

'  Well,  you  zee,  sir,  some  says  one  thing,  and  some 
another ;  I  think  they  does  it  to  save  the  expense  of  a 
Christian  burial  for  ther  children.  Now  there's  a  poor 
family  out  in  Long  Lane — the  husband  used  to  smite 
for  Jimmy  More  the  blacksmith  till  'a  hurt  his  arm — 
they'd  have  no  less  than  eleven  children  if  they'd  not 
been  lucky  t'other  way,  and  buried  five  when  they  were 
three  or  four  months  old.  Now  every  one  of  them 
children  was  given  to  the  sexton  in  a  little  box  that 
any  journeyman  could  nail  together  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  and  he  buried  'em  at  night  for  a  shilling  a  head  ; 
whereas  'twould  have  cost  a  couple  of  pounds  each  if 
they'd  been  christened  at  church.  ...  Of  course  there's 
the  new  lady  at  the  casde,  she's  a  chapel  member,  and 
that  may  make  a  little  difference;  but  she's  not  been 
here  long  enough  to  show  whether  'twill  be  worth  while 
to  join  'em  for  the  profit  o't  or  whether  'twill  not.  No 
doubt  if  it  turns  out  that  she's  of  a  sort  to  relieve  volks 
in  trouble,  more  will  join  her  set  than  belongs  to  it 
already.  "  Any  port  in  a  storm,"  of  course,  as  the 
saying  is.' 

'  As  for  yourself,  you  are  a  Churchman  at  present,  I 
presume  ? ' 

'  Yes ;  not  but  I  was  a  Methodist  once — ay,  for  a 
length  of  time.  'Twas  owing  to  my  taking  a  house 
next  door  to  a  chapel;  so  that  what  with  hearing  the 
organ  bizz  like  a  bee  through  the  wall,  and  what  with 
finding  it  saved  umbrellas  on  wet  Zundays,  I  went  over 
to  that  faith  for  two  years — though  I  believe  I  dropped 
money  by  it — I  wouldn't  be  the  man  to  say  so  if  I 
hadn't.  Howsomever,  when  I  moved  into  this  house  I 
turned  back  again  to  my  old  religion.  Faith,  I  don't 
zee  much  difference :  be  you  one,  or  be  you  t'other, 
you've  got  to  get  your  living.' 

'  The  De  Stancys,  of  course,  have  not  much  influence 
here  now,  for  that,  or  any  other  thing  ? ' 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

'  O  no,  no  ;  not  any  at  all.  They  be  very  low  upon 
ground,  and  always  will  be  now,  I  suppose.  It  was 
thoughted  worthy  of  being  recorded  in  history — you've 
read  it,  sir,  no  doubt  ? ' 

'  Not  a  word.' 

'  O,  then,  you  shall.  I've  got  the  history  zome- 
where.  'Twas  gay  manners  that  did  it.  The  only  bit  of 
luck  they  have  had  of  late  years  is  Miss  Power's  taking 
to  little  Miss  De  Stancy,  and  making  her  her  company- 
keeper.      I  hope  'twill  continue.' 

That  the  two  daughters  of  these  antipodean  families 
should  be  such  intimate  friends  was  a  situation  which 
pleased  Somerset  as  much  as  it  did  the  landlord.  It 
was  an  engaging  instance  of  that  human  progress  on 
which  he  had  expended  many  charming  dreams  in  the 
years  when  poetry,  theology,  and  the  reorganization  of 
society  had  seemed  matters  of  more  importance  to  him 
than  a  profession  which  should  help  him  to  a  big  house 
and  income,  a  fair  Deiopeia,  and  a  lovely  progeny. 
When  he  was  alone  he  poured  out  a  glass  of  wine,  and 
silently  drank  the  healths  of  the  two  generous-minded 
young  women  who,  in  this  lonely  district,  had  found 
sweet  communion  a  necessity  of  life,  and  by  pure  and 
instinctive  good  sense  had  broken  down  a  barrier  which 
men  thrice  their  age  and  repute  would  probably  have 
felt  it  imperative  to  maintain.  But  perhaps  this  was 
premature :  the  omnipotent  Miss  Power's  character — 
practical  or  ideal,  politic  or  impulsive — he  as  yet  knew 
nothing  of;  and  giving  over  reasoning  from  insufficient 
data  he  lapsed  into  mere  conjecture. 


A   LAODICEAN 


V 

1  HE  next  morning  Somerset  was  again  at  the  castle. 
He  passed  some  interval  on  the  walls  before  encounter- 
ing Miss  De  Stancy,  whom  at  last  he  observed  going 
towards  a  pony-carriage  that  waited  near  the  door. 

A  smile  gained  strength  upon  her  face  at  his  approach, 
and  she  was  the  first  to  speak.  '  I  am  sorry  Miss 
Power  has  not  returned,'  she  said,  and  accounted  for 
that  lady's  absence  by  her  distress  at  the  event  of  two 
evenings  earlier. 

'  But  I  have  driven  over  to  my  father's — Sir  William 
De  Stancy' s — house  this  morning,'  she  went  on.  '  And 
on  mentioning  your  name  to  him,  I  found  he  knew  it 
quite  well.  You  will,  will  you  not,  forgive  my  ignorance 
in  having  no  better  knowledge  of  the  elder  Mr.  Somerset's 
works  than  a  dim  sense  of  his  fame  as  a  painter  ?  But 
I  was  going  to  say  that  my  father  would  much  like  to 
include  you  in  his  personal  acquaintance,  and  wishes  me 
to  ask  if  you  will  give  him  the  pleasure  of  lunching  with 
him  to-day.  My  cousin  John,  whom  you  once  knew, 
was  a  great  favourite  of  his,  and  used  to  speak  of  you 
sometimes.  It  will  be  so  kind  if  you  can  come.  My 
father  is  an  old  man,  out  of  society^  and  he  would  be 
glad  to  hear  the  news  of  town.' 

Somerset  said  he  was  glad  to  find  himself  among 
friends    where    he    had    only    expected    strangers ;  and 

44 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

promised  to  come  that  day,  if  she  would  tell  him  the 
way. 

That  she  could  easily  do.  The  short  way  was  across 
that  glade  he  saw  there — then  over  the  stile  into  the 
wood,  following  the  path  till  it  came  out  upon  the  turn- 
pike-road. He  would  then  be  almost  close  to  the  house. 
The  distance  was  about  two  miles  and  a  half.  But  if  he 
thought  it  too  far  for  a  walk,  she  would  drive  on  to  the 
town,  where  she  had  been  going  when  he  came,  and 
instead  of  returning  straight  to  her  father's  would  come 
back  and  pick  him  up. 

It  was  not  at  all  necessary,  he  thought.  He  was  a 
walker,  and  could  find  the  path. 

At  this  moment  a  servant  came  to  tell  Miss  De 
Stancy  that  the  telegraph  was  calling  her. 

'  Ah — it  is  lucky  that  I  was  not  gone  again  ! '  she 
exclaimed.  'John  seldom  reads  it  right  if  I  am 
away.' 

It  now  seemed  quite  in  the  ordinary  course  that,  as  a 
friend  of  her  father's,  he  should  accompany  her  to  the 
instrument.  So  up  they  went  together,  and  immediately 
on  reaching  it  she  applied  her  ear  to  the  instrument,  and 
began  to  gather  the  message.  Somerset  fancied  himself 
like  a  person  overlooking  another's  letter,  and  moved 
aside. 

'  It  is  no  secret,'  she  said,  smiling.  ' "  Patda  to 
Charlotte,''  it  begins.' 

'  That's  very  pretty.' 

'  O — and  it  is  about — you,'  murmured  Miss  De 
Stancy. 

'  Me  ?  '     The  architect  blushed  a  little. 

She  made  no  answer,  and  the  machine  went  on  with 
its  story.  There  was  something  curious  in  watching  this 
utterance  about  himself,  under  his  very  nose,  in  language 
unintelligible  to  him.  He  conjectured  whether  it  were 
inquiry,  praise,  or  blame,  with  a  sense  that  it  might 
reasonably  be  the  latter,  as  the  result  of  his  surreptitious 

45 


A   LAODICEAN 

look  into  that  blue  bedroom,  possibly  observed  and 
reported  by  some  servant  of  the  house. 

'^'^  Direct  that  every  facility  be  given  to  Mr.  Somerset 
to  visit  any  part  of  the  castle  he  may  wish  to  see.  On  my 
return  I  shall  be  glad  to  ivelcome  hi7?i  as  the  acquaintance 
of  your  relatives.     I  have  two  of  his  father  s  pictures."  ' 

'  Dear  me,  the  plot  thickens,'  he  said,  as  Miss  De 
Stancy  announced  the  words.  '  How  could  she  know 
about  me  ? ' 

'  I  sent  a  messa<?e  to  her  this  mornina;  when  I  saw 
you  crossing  the  park  on  your  way  here — telling  her 
that  Mr.  Somerset,  son  of  the  Academician,  was  making 
sketches  of  the  castle,  and  that  my  father  knew  some- 
thing of  you.     That's  her  answer.' 

'  \V^here  are  the  pictures  by  my  fether  that  she  has 
purchased  ? ' 

'  O,  not  here — at  least,  not  unpacked.' 

Miss  de  Stancy  then  left  him  to  proceed  on  her 
journey  to  Markton  (so  the  nearest  little  town  was 
called),  informing  him  that  she  would  be  at  her  father's 
house  to  receive  him  at  two  o'clock. 

Just  about  one  he  closed  his  sketch-book,  and  set 
out  in  the  direction  she  had  indicated.  At  the  entrance 
to  the  wood  a  man  was  at  work  pulling  down  a  rotten 
gate  that  bore  on  its  battered  lock  the  initials  '  W.  De  S.' 
and  erecting  a  new  one  whose  ironmongery  exhibited 
the  letters  '  P.  P.' 

The  warmth  of  the  summer  noon  did  not  inconveni- 
ently penetrate  the  dense  masses  of  foliage  which  now 
began  to  overhang  the  path,  except  in  spots  where  a 
ruthlesss  timber-felling  had  taken  place  in  previous 
years  for  the  purpose  of  sale.  It  was  that  particular 
half-hour  of  the  day  in  which  the  birds  of  the  forest 
prefer  walking  to  flying ;  and  there  being  no  wind,  the 
hopping  of  the  smallest  songster  over  the  dead  leaves 
reached  his  ear  from  behind  the  undergrowth.  The 
track  had  originally  been  a  well-kept  winding  drive,  but 

46 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

a  deep  carpet  of  moss  and  leaves  overlaid  it  now,  though 
the  general  outline  still  remained  to  show  that  its  curves 
had  been  set  out  with  as  much  care  as  those  of  a  lawn 
walk,  and  the  gradient  made  easy  for  carriages  where 
the  natural  slopes  were  great.  Felled  trunks  occasion- 
ally lay  across  it,  and  alongside  were  the  hollow  and 
fungous  boles  of  trees  sawn  down  in  long  past  years. 

After  a  walk  of  three-quarters  of  an  hour  he  came  to 
another  gate,  where  the  letters  '  P.  P.'  again  supplanted 
the  historical  '  W.  De  S.'  Climbing  over  this,  he  found 
himself  on  a  highway  which  presently  dipped  down 
towards  the  town  of  Markton,  a  place  he  had  never  yet 
seen.  It  appeared  in  the  distance  as  a  quiet  little 
borough  of  a  (ew-  thousand  inhabitants ;  and,  without 
the  town  boundary  on  the  side  he  was  approaching, 
stood  half-a-dozen  genteel  and  modern  houses,  of  the 
detached  kind  usually  found  in  such  suburbs.  On 
inquiry,  .Sir  WiUiam  De  Stancy's  residence  was  indicated 
as  one  of  these. 

It  vv-as  almost  new,  of  streaked  brick,  having  a  central 
door,  and  a  small  bay  window  on  each  side  to  light  the 
two  front  parlours.  A  little  lawn  spread  its  green  sur- 
face in  front,  divided  from  the  road  by  iron  railings,  the 
low  line  of  shrubs  immediately  within  them  being  coated 
with  pallid  dust  from  the  highway.  On  the  neat  piers 
of  the  neat  entrance  gate  were  chiselled  the  words 
*  Myrtle  Villa.'  Genuine  roadside  respectability  sat 
smiling  on  every  brick  of  the  eligible  dwelling. 

Perhaps  that  which  impressed  Somerset  more  than 
the  mushroom  modernism  of  Sir  William  De  Stancy's 
house  was  the  air  of  healthful  cheerfulness  which  per- 
vaded it.  He  was  shown  in  by  a  neat  maidservant  in 
black  gown  and  white  apron,  a  canary  singing  a  welcome 
from  a  cage  in  the  shadow  of  the  window,  the  voices  of 
crowing  cocks  coming  over  the  cliimneys  from  some- 
where behind,  and  the  sun  and  air  riddling  the  house 
cveiywhere. 

47 


A   LAODICEAN 

A  dwelling  of  those  well-known  and  popular  dimen- 
sions which  allow  the  proceedings  in  the  kitchen  to  be 
distinctly  heard  in  the  parlours,  it  was  so  planned  that 
a  raking  view  might  be  obtained  through  it  from  the  front 
door  to  the  end  of  the  back  garden.  The  drawing-room 
furniture  was  comfortable,  in  the  walnut-and-green-rep 
style  of  some  years  ago.  Somerset  had  expected  to  find 
his  friends  living  in  an  old  house  with  remnants  of  their 
own  antique  furniture,  and  he  hardly  knew  whether  he 
ought  to  meet  them  with  a  smile  or  a  gaze  of  con- 
dolence. His  doubt  was  terminated,  however,  by  the 
cheerful  and  tripping  entry  of  Miss  De  Stancy,  who 
had  returned  from  her  drive  to  Markton ;  and  in  a  few 
more  moments  Sir  William  came  in  from  the  garden. 

He  was  an  old  man  of  tall  and  spare  build,  with  a 
considerable  stoop,  his  glasses  dangling  against  his 
waistcoat-buttons,  and  the  front  corners  of  his  coat-tails 
hanging  lower  than  the  hinderparts,  so  that  they  swayed 
right  and  left  as  he  walked.  He  nervously  apologized 
to  his  visitor  for  having  kept  him  waiting. 

'  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,'  he  said,  with  a  mild 
benevolence  of  tone,  as  he  retained  Somerset's  hand 
for  a  moment  or  two ;  '  partly  for  your  father's  sake, 
whom  I  met  more  than  once  in  my  younger  days,  before 
he  became  so  well-known ;  and  also  because  I  learn  that 
you  were  a  friend  of  my  poor  nephew  John  Ravensbury.' 
He  looked  over  his  shoulder  to  see  if  his  daughter  were 
within  hearing ;  and,  with  the  impulse  of  the  solitary 
to  make  a  confidence,  continued  in  a  low  tone :  '  She, 
poor  girl,  was  to  have  married  John  :  his  death  was  a 
sad  blow  to  her  and  to  all  of  us. — Pray  take  a  seat, 
Mr.  Somerset.' 

The  reverses  of  fortune  which  had  brought  Sir  William 
De  Stancy  to  this  comfortable  cottage  awakened  in 
Somerset  a  warmer  emotion  than  curiosity,  and  he  sat 
down  with  a  heart  as  responsive  to  each  speech  uttered 
as  if  it  had  seriously  concerned  himself,  while  his  host 

48 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

gave  some  words  of  information  to  his  daughter  on  the 
trifling  events  that  had  marked  the  morning  just  passed ; 
such  as  that  the  cow  had  got  out  of  the  paddock  into 
Miss  Power's  field,  that  the  smith  who  had  promised 
to  come  and  look  at  the  kitchen  range  had  not  arrived, 
that  two  wasps'  nests  had  been  discovered  in  the  garden 
bank,  and  that  Nick  Jones's  baby  had  fallen  down- 
stairs. Sir  William  had  large  cavernous  arches  to  his 
eye-sockets,  reminding  the  beholder  of  the  vaults  in  the 
castle  he  once  had  owned.  His  hands  were  long  and 
almost  fleshless,  each  knuckle  showing  like  a  bamboo- 
joint  from  beneath  his  coat-sleeves,  which  were  small 
at  the  elbow  and  large  at  the  wrist.  All  the  colour 
had  gone  from  his  beard  and  locks,  except  in  the  case 
of  a  few  isolated  hairs  of  the  former,  which  retained 
dashes  of  their  original  shade  at  sudden  points  in  their 
length,  revealing  that  all  had  once  been  raven  black. 

But  to  study  a  man  to  his  face  for  long  is  a  species 
of  ill-nature  which  requires  a  colder  temperament,  or  at 
least  an  older  heart,  than  the  architect's  was  at  that 
time.  Incurious  unobservance  is  the  true  attitude  of 
cordiality,  and  Somerset  blamed  himself  for  having  fallen 
into  an  act  of  inspection  even  briefly.  He  would  wait 
for  his  host's  conversation,  which  would  doubtless  be 
of  the  essence  of  historical  romance. 

'  The  favourable  Bank-returns  have  made  the  money- 
market  much  easier  to-day,  as  I  learn  ?  '  said  Sir  William. 

'  O,  have  they  ?  '  said  Somerset.  '  Yes,  I  suppose 
they  have.' 

'  And  something  is  meant  by  this  unusual  quietness 
in  Foreign  stocks  since  the  late  remarkable  fluctuations,' 
insisted  the  old  man.  '  Is  the  current  of  speculation 
([uite  arrested,  or  is  it  but  a  temporary  lull  ? ' 

Somerset  said  he  was  afraid  he  could  not  give  an 
opinion,  and  entered  very  lamely  into  the  subject ;  but 
Sir  William  seemed  to  find  sufficient  interest  in  his  own 
thoughts   to  do   away  with   the   necessity  of  acquiring 

49  D 


A   LAODICEAN 

fresh  impressions  from  other  people's  replies  ;  for  often 
after  putting  a  question  he  looked  on  the  floor,  as  it 
the  subject  were  at  an  end.  Lunch  was  now  ready, 
and  when  they  were  in  the  dining-room  Miss  De  Stancy, 
to  introduce  a  topic  of  more  general  interest,  asked 
Somerset  if  he  had  noticed  the  myrtle  on  the  lawn  ? 

Somerset  had  noticed  it,  and  thought  he  had  never 
seen  such  a  full-blown  one  in  the  open  air  before.  His 
eyes  were,  however,  resting  at  the  moment  on  the  only 
objects  at  all  out  of  the  comm.on  that  the  dining-room 
contained.  One  was  a  singular  glass  case  over  the  fire- 
place, within  which  were  some  large  mediaeval  door-keys, 
black  with  rust  and  age ;  and  the  others  were  two  full- 
length  oil  portraits  in  the  costume  of  the  end  of  the  last 
century — so  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  room 
they  occupied  that  they  almost  reached  to  the  floor. 

'  Those  originally  belonged  to  the  castle  yonder,'  said 
Miss  De  Stancy,  or  Charlotte,  as  her  father  called  her, 
noticing  Somerset's  glance  at  the  keys.  '  They  used  to 
unlock  the  principal  entrance-doors,  which  were  knocked 
to  pieces  in  the  civil  wars.  New  doors  were  placed 
afterwards,  but  the  old  keys  were  never  given  up,  and 
have  been  preserved  by  us  ever  since.' 

'  They  are  quite  useless — mere  lumber — particularly 
to  me,'  said  Sir  William. 

'  And  those  huge  paintings  were  a  present  from 
Paula,'  she  continued.  '  They  are  portraits  of  my  great- 
grandfather and  mother.  Paula  would  give  all  the  old 
family  pictures  back  to  me  if  we  had  room  for  them ; 
but  they  would  fill  the  house  to  the  ceilings.' 

Sir  William  was  impatient  of  the  subject.  '  What  is 
the  utility  of  such  accumulations  ?  '  he  asked.  '  Their 
originals  are  but  clay  now — mere  forgotten  dust,  not 
worthy  a  moment's  inquiry  or  reflection  at  this  distance 
of  tim.e.  Nothing  can  retain  the  spirit,  and  why  should 
we  preserve  the  shadow  of  the  form  ? — London  has  been 
very  full  this  year,  sir,  I  have  been  told  ?  ' 

50 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

'  It  has,'  said  Somerset,  and  he  asked  if  they  had 
been  up  that  season.  It  was  plain  that  the  matter  with 
which  Sir  ^ViUiam  De  Stancy  least  cared  to  occupy  him- 
self before  visitors  was  the  history  of  his  own  family, 
in  which  he  was  followed  with  more  simplicity  l)y  his 
daughter  Charlotte. 

'  No,'  said  the  baronet.  '  One  might  be  led  to  think 
there  is  a  fatality  which  prevents  it.  We  m.ake  arrange- 
ments to  go  to  town  almost  every  year,  to  meet  some 
old  friend  who  combines  the  rare  conditions  of  being  in 
London  with  being  mindful  of  me;  but  he  has  always 
died  or  gone  elsewhere  before  the  event  has  tp.ken  place. 
.  .  .  But  with  a  disposition  to  be  happy,  it  is  neither 
this  place  nor  the  other  that  can  render  us  the  reverse. 
In  short  each  man's  happiness  depends  upon  himself, 
and  his  ability  for  doing  with  little.'  He  turned  more 
particularly  to  Somerset,  and  added  with  an  impressive 
smile :  '  I  hope  you  cultivate  the  art  of  doing  with 
httle  ? ' 

Somerset  said  that  he  certainly  did  cultivate  that  art, 
partly  because  he  was  obliged  to. 

'  Ah — you  don't  mean  to  the  extent  that  I  mean. 
The  world  has  not  yet  learned  the  riches  of  frugality, 
says,  I  think,  Cicero,  somewhere ;  and  nobody  can 
testify  to  the  trutli  of  that  remark  better  than  I.  If 
a  man  knows  how  to  spend  less  than  his  income, 
however  small  that  may  be,  why— he  has  the  philoso- 
pher's stone.'  And  Sir  William  looked  in  Somerset's 
face  with  frugality  written  in  every  pore  of  his  own, 
as  much  as  to  say,  '  And  here  you  see  one  who  has 
been  a  li-\'ing  instance  of  those  principles  from  his 
youth  up.' 

Somerset  soon  found  that  whatever  turn  the  con- 
versation took,  Sir  William  invariably  reverted  to  this 
topic  of  frugality.  When  luncheon  was  over  he  asked 
his  visitor  to  walk  with  him  into  the  garden,  and  no 
sooner  were  they  alone  than  he  continued :  '  Well,  Mr. 

51 


A   LAODICEAN 

Somerset,  you  are  down  here  sketching  architecture  for 
professional  purposes.  Nothing  can  be  better  :  you  are 
a  young  man,  and  your  art  is  one  in  which  there  are 
innumerable  chances.' 

'  I  had  begun  to  think  they  were  rather  few,'  said 
Somerset. 

'  No,  they  are  numerous  enough :  the  difficulty  is  to 
find  out  where  they  lie.  It  is  better  to  know  where 
your  luck  lies  than  where  your  talent  lies  :  that's  an  old 
man's  opinion.' 

'  I'll  remember  it,'  said  Somerset. 

'  And  now  give  me  some  account  of  your  new  clubs, 
new  hotels,  and  new  men.  .  .  .  What  I  was  going  to 
add,  on  the  subject  of  finding  out  where  your  luck  lies, 
is  that  nobody  is  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  have  a  lucky 
star  in  some  direction  or  other.  Perhaps  yours  is  at 
the  antipodes  ;  if  so,  go  there.  All  I  say  is,  discover 
your  lucky  star.' 

'  I  am  looking  for  it.' 

'  You  may  be  able  to  do  two  things ;  one  well,  the 
other  but  indifferently,  and  yet  you  may  have  more  luck 
in  the  latter.  Then  stick  to  that  one,  and  never  mind 
what  you  can  do  best.     Your  star  lies  there.' 

'  There  I  am  not  quite  at  one  with  you,  Sir  William.' 

'  You  should  be.  Not  that  I  mean  to  say  that  luck 
lies  in  any  one  place  long,  or  at  any  one  person's  door. 
Fortune  likes  new  faces,  and  your  wisdom  lies  in  bringing 
your  acquisitions  into  safety  while  her  favour  lasts.  To 
do  that  you  must  make  friends  in  her  time  of  smiles — 
make  friends  with  people,  wherever  you  find  them.  My 
daughter  has  unconsciously  followed  that  maxim.  She 
has  struck  up  a  warm  friendship  with  our  neighbour.  Miss 
Power,  at  the  castle.  We  are  diametrically  different 
from  her  in  associations,  traditions,  ideas,  religion — she 
comes  of  a  violent  dissenting  family  among  other  things — 
but  I  say  to  Charlotte  what  I  say  to  you  :  win  affection 
and  regard  wherever  you  can,  and  accommodate  your- 


GEORGE    SOMERSET 

self  to  the  times.  I  put  nothing  in  the  way  of  their 
intimacy,  and  wisely  so,  for  by  this  so  many  pleasant 
hours  are  added  to  the  sum  total  vouchsafed  to 
humanity.' 

It  was  quite  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Somerset 
took  his  leave.  Miss  De  Stancy  did  not  return  to  the 
castle  that  night,  and  he  walked  through  the  wood  as 
he  had  come,  feeling  that  he  had  been  talking  with  a 
man  of  simple  nature,  who  flattered  his  own  under- 
standing by  devising  Machiavellian  theories  after  the 
event,  to  account  for  any  spontaneous  action  of  himself 
or  his  daughter,  which  might  otherwise  seem  eccentric 
or  irregular. 

Before  Somerset  reached  the  inn  he  was  overtaken 
by  a  slight  shower,  and  on  entering  the  house  he  walked 
into  the  general  room,  where  there  was  a  fire,  and  stood 
with  one  foot  on  the  fender.  The  landlord  was  talking 
to  some  guest  who  sat  behind  a  screen ;  and,  probably 
because  Somerset  had  been  seen  passing  the  window, 
and  was  krown  to  be  sketching  at  the  castle,  the  conver- 
sation turned  on  Sir  William  De  Stancy. 

'  I  have  often  noticed,'  observed  the  landlord,  '  that 
volks  who  have  come  to  grief,  and  quite  failed,  have  the 
rules  how  to  succeed  in  life  more  at  their  vingers'  ends 
than  volks  who  have  succeeded.  I  assure  you  that  Sir 
\\'illiam,  so  full  as  he  is  of  wise  maxims,  never  acted 
upon  a  wise  maxim  in  his  life,  until  he  had  lost  every- 
thing, and  it  didn't  matter  whether  he  was  wise  or  no. 
You  know  what  he  was  in  his  young  days,  of  course  ? ' 

'  No,  I  don't,'  said  the  invisible  stranger. 

'  O,  I  thought  everybody  knew  poor  Sir  William's 
history.  He  was  the  star,  as  I  may  zay,  of  good  com- 
pany forty  years  ago.  I  remember  him  in  the  height 
of  his  jinks,  as  I  used  to  zee  him  when  I  was  a  very 
little  boy,  and  think  how  great  and  wonderful  he  was. 
I  can  seem  to  zee  now  the  exact  style  of  his  clothes  ; 
white  hat,  white  trousers,  white  silk  handkerchief;  and 


A   LAODICEAN 

his  jonnick  face,  as  white  as  his  clothes  vv'ith  keeping 
late  hours.  There  was  nothing  black  about  him  but 
his  hair  and  his  eyes — he  wore  no  beard  at  that  time — 
and  they  were  black  as  slooes.  The  like  of  his  coming 
on  the  race-course  was  never  seen  there  afore  nor  since. 
He  drove  his  ikkipage  hisself;  and  it  was  always 
hauled  by  four  beautiful  white  horses,  and  two  outriders 
rode  in  harness  bridles.  There  was  a  groom  behind 
him,  and  another  at  the  rubbing-post,  all  in  livery  as 
glorious  as  New  Jerusalem.  What  a  'stablishment  he 
kept  up  at  that  time  !  I  can  mind  him,  sir,  with  thirty 
race-horses  in  training  at  once,  seventeen  coach-horses, 
twelve  hunters  at  his  box  t'other  side  of  London,  four 
chargers  at  Budmouth,  and  ever  so  many  hacks.' 

'  And  he  lost  all  by  his  racing  speculations  ? '  the 
stranger  observed ;  and  Somerset  fancied  that  the  voice 
had  in  it  something  more  than  the  languid  carelessness 
of  a  casual  sojourner. 

'  Partly  by  that,  partly  in  other  ways.  He  spent  a 
mint  o'  money  in  a  wild  project  of  founding  a  watering- 
place  ;  and  sunk  thousands  in  a  useless  silver  mine ;  so 
'twas  no  wonder  that  the  castle  named  after  him  veil 
into  other  hands.  .  .  .  The  way  it  was  done  was  curious. 
Mr.  Wilkins,  who  was  the  first  owner  after  it  went  from 
Sir  William,  actually  sat  down  as  a  guest  at  his  table, 
and  got  up  as  the  owner.  He  took  off,  at  a  round  sum, 
everything  saleable,  furniture,  plate,  pictures,  even  the 
milk  and  butter  in  the  dairy.  That's  how  the  pictures 
and  furniture  come  to  be  in  the  castle  still ;  wornieaten 
rubbish  zome  o'  it,  and  hardly  worth  moving.' 

'  And  off  went  the  baronet  to  Myrtle  Villa  ?  ' 

'  O  no  !  he  went  away  for  many  years.  'Tis  quite 
lately,  since  his  illness,  that  he  came  to  that  little  place, 
in  zight  of  the  stone  walls  that  were  the  pride  of  his 
forefathers,' 

'  From  what  I  hear,  he  has  not  the  m.anner  of  a 
broken-hearted  man  ?  ' 

54 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

*  Not  at  all.  Since  that  illness  he  has  been  happy, 
as  you  see  him :  no  pride,  quite  calm  and  mild ;  at  new 
moon  quite  childish.  'Tis  that  makes  him  able  to  live 
there ;  before  he  was  so  ill  he  couldn't  bear  a  zight  of 
the  place,  but  since  then  he  is  happy  nowhere  else,  and 
never  leaves  the  parish  further  than  to  drive  once  a  week 
to  Markton.  His  head  won't  stand  society  nowadays, 
and  he  lives  quite  lonely  as  you  zee,  only  zeeing  his 
daughter,  or  his  son  whenever  he  comes  home,  Avhich  is 
not  often.  They  say  that  if  his  brain  hadn't  softened  a 
little  he  would  ha'  died — 'twas  that  saved  his  life.' 

'  What's  this  I  hear  about  his  daughter  ?  Is  shq 
really  hired  companion  to  the  new  owner  ? ' 

'Now  that's  a  curious  thing  again,  these  two  girls 
being  so  fond  of  one  another;  one  of  'em  a  dissenter, 
and  all  that,  and  t'other  a  De  Stancy.  O  no,  not  hired 
exactly,  but  she  mostly  lives  with  Miss  Power,  and  goes 
about  with  her,  and  I  dare  say  Miss  Power  makes  it 
wo'th  her  while.  One  can't  move  a  step  without  the 
other  following ;  though  judging  by  ordinary  volks  you'd 
think  'twould  be  a  cat-and-dog  friendship  rather.' 

'  But  'tis  not  ?  ' 

"Tis  not;  they  be  more  like  lovers  than  maid  and 
maid.  Miss  Power  is  looked  up  to  by  little  De  Stancy 
as  if  she  were  a  god-a'mighty,  and  Miss  Power  lets  her 
love  her  to  her  heart's  content.  But  whether  Miss 
Power  loves  back  again  I  can't  zay,  for  she's  as  deep  as 
the  North  Star.' 

The  landlord  here  left  the  stranger  to  go  to  some 
other  part  of  the  house,  and  Somerset  drew  near  to  the 
glass  partition  to  gain  a  ghmpse  of  a  man  whose  interest 
in  the  neighbourhood  seemed  to  have  arisen  so  simul- 
taneously with  his  own.  But  the  inner  room  was 
empty :  the  man  had  apparently  departed  by  another 
door. 


A   LAODICEAN 


VI 

i  HE  telegraph  had  almost  the  attributes  of  a  human 
being  at  Stancy  Castle.  When  its  bell  rang  people 
rushed  to  the  old  tapestried  chamber  allotted  to  it,  and 
waited  its  pleasure  with  all  the  deference  due  to  such  a 
novel  inhabitant  of  that  ancestral  pile.  This  happened 
on  the  following  afternoon  about  four  o'clock,  while 
Somerset  was  sketching  in  the  room  adjoining  that 
occupied  by  the  instrument.  Hearing  its  call,  he  looked 
in  to  learn  if  anybody  were  attending,  and  found  Miss 
De  Stancy  bending  over  it. 

She  welcomed  him  without  the  least  embarrassment. 
'  Another  message,'  she  said. — '  "  Paula  to  Charlotte. — 
Have  returned  to  Markton.  Am  starting  for  home.  Will 
be  at  the  gate  between  four  and  five  if  possible."  ' 

Miss  De  Stancy  blushed  with  pleasure  when  she 
raised  her  eyes  from  the  machine.  '  Is  she  not  thought- 
ful to  let  me  know  beforehand  ?  ' 

Somerset  said  she  certainly  appeared  to  be,  feeling  at 
the  same  time  that  he  was  not  in  possession  of  sufficient 
data  to  make  the  opinion  of  great  value. 

'  Now  I  must  get  everything  ready,  and  order  what 
she  will  want,  as  Mrs.  Goodman  is  away.  What  will 
she  want  ?  Dinner  would  be  best — she  has  had  no  lunch, 
I  know ;  or  tea  perhaps,  and  dinner  at  the  usual  time. 
Still,  if  she  has  had  no  lunch — Hark,  what  do  I  hear  ? ' 

56 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

She  ran  to  an  arrow-slit,  and  Somerset,  who  had  also 
heard  something,  looked  out  of  an  adjoining  one.  They 
could  see  from  their  elevated  position  a  great  way  along 
the  white  road,  stretching  like  a  tape  amid  the  green 
expanses  on  each  side.  There  had  arisen  a  cloud  of 
dust,  accompanied  by  a  noise  of  wheels. 

'  It  is  she,'  said  Charlotte.  '  O  yes — it  is  past  four 
— the  telegram  has  been  delayed.' 

'  How  would  she  be  likely  to  come  ?  ' 

'  She  has  doubtless  hired  a  carraige  at  the  inn  :  she 
said  it  would  be  useless  to  send  to  meet  her,  as  she 
couldn't  name  a  time.  .  .   .  Where  is  she  now  ? ' 

'  Just  where  the  boughs  of  those  beeches  overhang 
the  road — there  she  is  again  ! ' 

Miss  De  Stancy  went  away  to  give  directions,  and 
Somerset  continued  to  watch.  The  vehicle,  which  was 
of  no  great  pretension,  soon  crossed  the  bridge  and 
stopped  :  there  was  a  ring  at  the  bell ;  and  Miss  De 
Stancy  reappeared. 

'  Did  you  see  her  as  she  drove  up — is  she  not  inter- 
esting ? ' 

'  I  could  not  see  her.' 

'  Ah,  no — of  course  you  could  not  from  this  window 
because  of  the  trees.  Mr.  Somerset,  will  you  come 
downstairs  ?     You  will  have  to  meet  her,  you  know.' 

Somerset  felt  an  indescribable  backwardness.  '  I 
will  go  on  with  my  sketching,'  he  said.  '  Perhaps  she 
will  not  be ' 

'  O,  but  it  would  be  quite  natural,  would  it  not  ? 
Our  manners  are  easier  here,  you  know,  than  they 
are  in  town,  and  Miss  Power  has  adapted  herself  to 
them.' 

A  compromise  was  effected  by  Somerset  declaring 
that  he  would  hold  himself  in  readiness  to  be  discovered 
on  the  landing  at  any  convenient  time. 

A  servant  entered.  '  Miss  Power  ? '  said  Miss  De 
Stancy,  before  he  rouM  speak. 

57 


A   LAODICEAN 

The  man  advanced  with  a  card  :  Miss  De  Stancy 
took  it  up,  and  read  thereon  :   '  Mr.  WiUiam  Dare.' 

'  It  is  not  Miss  Power  who  has  come,  then  ?  '  she 
asked,  with  a  disappointed  face. 

'  No,  ma'am.' 

She  looked  again  at  the  card.  '  This  is  some  man 
of  business,  I  suppose — does  he  want  to  see  me  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  miss.  Leastwise,  he  would  be  glad  to  see  you 
if  Miss  Power  is  not  at  home.' 

Miss  De  Stancy  left  the  room,  and  soon  returned, 
saying,  '  Mr.  Somerset,  can  you  give  me  your  counsel 
in  this  matter  ?  This  Mr.  Dare  says  he  is  a  photographic 
amateur,  and  it  seems  that  he  wrote  some  time  ago  to 
Miss  Power,  who  gave  him  permission  to  take  views  of 
the  castle,  and  promised  to  show  him  the  best  points. 
But  I  have  heard  nothing  of  it,  and  scarcely  know 
whether  I  ought  to  take  his  word  in  her  absence.  Mrs. 
Goodman,  Miss  Power's  relative,  who  usually  attends  to 
these  things,  is  away.' 

'  I  dare  say  it  is  all  right,'  said  Somerset. 

'  Would  you  mind  seeing  him  ?  If  you  think  it 
quite  in  order,  perhaps  you  will  instruct  him  where  the 
best  views  are  to  be  obtained  ? ' 

Thereupon  Somerset  at  once  went  dov/n  to  Mr.  Dare. 
His  coming  as  a  sort  of  counterfeit  of  Miss  Power  dis- 
posed Somerset  to  judge  him  with  as  much  severity  as 
justice  would  allow,  and  his  manner  for  the  moment  was 
not  of  a  kind  calculated  to  dissipate  antagonistic  instincts. 
Mr.  Dare  was  standing  before  the  fireplace  with  his  feet 
wide  apart,  and  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of  his  coat- 
tails,  looking  at  a  carving  over  the  mantelpiece.  He 
turned  quickly  at  the  sound  of  Somerset's  footsteps, 
and  revealed  himself  as  a  person  quite  out  of  the 
common. 

His  age  it  v/as  impossible  to  say.  There  was  not  a 
hair  on  his  face  which  could  serve  to  hang  a  guess 
uoon.      In  repose  he  appeared  a  boy  ;  but  his  actions 

58 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

were  so  completely  those  of  a  man  that  the  beholder's 
first  estimate  of  sixteen  as  his  age  was  hastily  corrected  to 
six-and-twenty,  and  afterwards  shifted  hither  and  thither 
along  intervening  years  as  the  tenor  of  his  sentences 
sent  him  up  or  down.  He  had  a  broad  forehead, 
vertical  as  the  face  of  a  bastion,  and  his  hair,  which  was 
parted  in  the  middle,  hung  as  a  fringe  or  valance  above, 
in  the  fashion  sometimes  affected  by  the  other  sex.  He 
wore  a  heavy  ring,  of  which  the  gold  seemed  fair,  the 
diamond  questionable,  and  the  taste  indifferent.  There 
were  the  remains  of  a  swagger  in  his  body  and  limbs  as 
he  came  forward,  regarding  Somerset  with  a  confident 
smile,  as  if  the  wonder  were,  not  why  Mr.  Dare  should 
be  present,  but  why  Somerset  should  be  present  likewise ; 
and  the  first  tone  that  came  from  Dare's  lips  wound  up 
his  listener's  opinion  that  he  did  not  like  him. 

A  latent  pov>'er  in  the  man,  or  boy,  was  revealed  by 
the  circumstance  that  Somerset  did  not  feel,  as  he  would 
ordinarily  have  done,  that  it  was  a  matter  of  profound 
indifference  to  him  whether  this  gentleman-photographer 
were  a  likeable  person  or  no. 

'  I  have  called  by  appointment ;  or  rather,  I  left  a 
card  stating  that  to-day  would  suit  me,  and  no  objection 
was  made.'  Somerset  recognized  the  voice;  it  was 
that  of  the  invisible  stranger  who  had  talked  with  the 
landlord  about  the  De  Stancys.  Mr.  Dare  then  pro- 
ceeded to  explain  his  business. 

Somerset  found  from  his  inquiries  that  the  man  had 
unquestionably  been  instructed  by  somebody  to  take 
the  views  he  spoke  of;  and  concluded  that  Dare's 
curiosity  at  the  inn  was,  after  all,  naturally  explained 
by  his  errand  to  this  place.  Blaming  himself  for  a  too 
hasty  condemnation  of  the  stranger,  who  though  visually 
a  little  too  assured  was  civil  enough  verbally,  Somerset 
proceeded  with  the  young  photographer  to  sundry 
corners  of  the  outer  ward,  and  thence  across  the  moat 
to  the   field,   suggesting  advantageous   points  of  view. 

59 


A   LAODICEAN 

The  office,  being  a  shadow  of  his  own  pursuits,  was  not 
uncongenial  to  Somerset,  and  he  forgot  other  things  in 
attending  to  it. 

'  Now  in  our  country  we  should  stand  further  back 
than  this,  and  so  get  a  more  comprehensive  coup  (Toiil^ 
said  Dare,  as  Somerset  selected  a  good  situation. 

'  You  are  not  an  Englishman,  then,'  said  Somerset. 

'  I  have  lived  mostly  in  India,  Malta,  Gibraltar,  the 
Ionian  Islands,  and  Canada.  I  there  invented  a  new 
photographic  process,  which  I  am  bent  upon  making 
famous.  Yet  I  am  but  a  dilettante,  and  do  not  follow 
this  art  at  the  base  dictation  of  what  men  call  necessity." 

'  O  indeed,'  Somerset  replied. 

As  soon  as  this  business  was  disposed  of,  and  Mr. 
Dare  had  brought  up  his  van  and  assistant  to  begin 
operations,  Somerset  returned  to  the  castle  entrance. 
While  under  the  archway  a  man  with  a  professional 
look  drove  up  in  a  dog-cart  and  inquired  if  Miss  Power 
were  at  home  to-day. 

'  She  has  not  yet  returned,  Mr.  Havill,'  was  the  reply. 

Somerset,  who  had  hoped  to  hear  an  affirmative  by 
this  time,  thought  that  Miss  Power  was  bent  on  dis- 
appointing him  in  the  flesh,  notwithstanding  the  interest 
she  expressed  in  him  by  telegraph ;  and  as  it  was  now 
drawing  towards  the  end  of  the  afternoon,  he  walked  off 
in  the  direction  of  his  inn. 

There  were  two  or  three  ways  to  that  spot,  but  the 
pleasantest  was  by  passing  through  a  rambling  shrubbery, 
between  whose  bushes  trickled  a  broad  shallow  brook, 
occasionally  intercepted  in  its  course  by  a  transverse 
chain  of  old  stones,  evidently  from  the  castle  walls, 
which  formed  a  miniature  waterfall.  The  walk  lay 
along  the  river-brink.  Soon  Somerset  saw  before  him 
a  circular  summer-house  formed  of  short  sticks  nailed 
to  ornamental  patterns.  Outside  the  structure,  and 
immediately  in  the  path,  stood  a  man  with  a  book  in 
his  hand  ;  and  it  was  presently  apparent  that  this  gentle- 

60 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

man  was  holding  a  conversation  with  some  person 
inside  the  pavilion,  but  the  back  of  the  building  l)eing 
towards  Somerset,  the  second  individual  could  not  be 
seen 

The  speaker  at  one  moment  glanced  into  the  interior, 
and  at  another  at  the  advancing  form  of  the  architect, 
whom,  though  distinctly  enough  beheld,  the  other 
scarcely  appeared  to  heed  in  the  absorbing  interest  of 
his  own  discourse.  Somerset  became  aware  that  it  was 
the  Baptist  minister,  whose  rhetoric  he  had  heard  in 
the  chapel  yonder. 

'  Now,'  continued  the  Baptist  minister,  '  will  you 
express  to  me  any  reason  or  objection  whatever  which 
induces  you  to  withdraw  from  our  communion  ?  It 
was  that  of  your  father,  and  of  his  father  before  him. 
Any  difficulty  you  may  have  met  with  I  will  honestly 
try  to  remove ;  for  I  need  hardly  say  that  in  losing  you 
we  lose  one  of  the  most  valued  members  of  the  Baptist 
church  in  this  district.  I  speak  with  all  the  respect 
due  to  your  position,  when  I  ask  you  to  realize  how 
irreparable  is  the  injury  you  inflict  upon  the  cause  here 
by  this  lukewarm  backwardness.' 

'  I  don't  withdraw,'  said  a  woman's  low  voice  within. 

'  What  do  you  do  ?  ' 

'  I  decline  to  attend  for  the  present.' 

'  And  you  can  give  no  reason  for  this  ?  ' 

There  was  no  reply. 

'  Or  for  your  refusal  to  proceed  with  the  baptism  ?  ' 

'  I  have  been  christened.' 

'  My  dear  young  lady,  it  is  well  known  that  your 
christening  was  the  work  of  your  aunt,  who  did  it  un- 
known to  your  parents  when  she  had  you  in  her  power, 
out  of  pure  obstinacy  to  a  church  with  which  she  was 
not  in  sympathy,  taking  you  surreptitiously,  and  inde- 
fensibly, to  the  font  of  the  Establishment ;  so  that  the 
rite  meant  and  could  mean  nothing  at  all.  .  .  .  But 
I  fear  that  your  new  position  has  brought  you  into  con- 

6i 


A   LAODICEAN 

tact  with  the  Pc-edobaptists,  that  they  have  disturbed 
your  old  principles,  and  so  induced  you  to  believe  in 
the  validity  of  that  trumpery  ceremony  ! ' 

'  It  seems  sufficient.' 

'  I  will  demolish  the  basis  of  that  seeming  in  three 
minutes,  give  me  but  that  time  as  a  listener.' 

'  I  have  no  objection,' 

'  A^ery  well.  .  .  .  First,  then,  I  will  assume  that  those 
who  have  influenced  you  in  the  matter  have  not  been 
able  to  make  any  impression  upon  one  so  well  grounded 
as  yourself  in  our  distinctive  doctrine,  by  the  stale  old 
argument  drawn  from  circumcision  ?  ' 

'You  may  assume  it.' 

*  Good — that  clears  the  ground.  And  we  now  come 
to  the  New  Testament.' 

The  minister  began  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  his 
little  Bible,  which  it  impressed  Somerset  to  observe  was 
bound  with  a  flap,  like  a  pocket  book,  the  black  surface 
of  the  leather  being  worn  brown  at  the  corners  by  long 
usage.  He  turned  on  till  he  came  to  the  beginning 
of  the  New  Testament,  and  then  commenced  his  dis- 
course. After  explaining  his  position,  the  old  man  ran 
very  ably  through  the  arguments,  citing  well-known 
writers  on  the  point  in  dispute  when  he  required  more 
finished  sentences  than  his  ov,n. 

The  minister's  earnestness  and  interest  in  his  own 
case  led  him  unconsciously  to  include  Somerset  in  his 
audience  as  the  young  man  drew  nearer;  till,  instead 
of  fixing  his  eyes  exclusively  on  the  person  within  the 
summer-house,  the  preacher  began  to  direct  a  good  pro- 
portion of  his  discourse  upon  his  new  auditor,  turning 
from  one  listener  to  the  other  attentively,  without  seeming 
to  feel  Somerset's  presence  as  superfluous. 

'  And  now,'  he  said  in  conclusion,  '  I  put  it  to  you, 
sir,  as  to  her :  do  you  find  any  flaw  in  my  argument  ? 
Is  there,  madam,  a  single  text  which,  honestly  inter- 
preted, affords  the  least  foothold  for  the  Paedobaptists ; 

62 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

in  oti^er  words,  for  your  opinion  on  the  efficacy  of  the 
rite  administered  to  you  in  your  unconscious  infancy  ? 
I  put  it  to  you  both  as  honest  and  responsible  beings.' 
He  turned  again  to  the  young  man. 

It  happened  that  Somerset  had  been  over  this 
ground  long  ago.  Born,  so  to  speak,  a  High-Church 
infant,  in  his  youth  he  had  been  of  a  thoughtful  turn, 
till  at  one  time  an  idea  of  his  entering  the  Church  had 
been  entertained  by  his  parents.  He  had  formed  ac- 
quaintance with  men  of  almost  every  variety  of  doctrinal 
practice  in  this  country ;  and,  as  the  pleadings  of  each 
assailed  him  before  he  had  arrived  at  an  age  of  sufficient 
mental  stability  to  resist  new  impressions,  however  badly 
substantiated,  he  inclined  to  each  denomination  as  it 
presented  itself,  was 

'  Everything  by  starts,  and  nothing  long,' 

till  he  had  travelled  through  a  great  many  beliefs  and 
doctrines  without  feeling  himself  much  better  than  when 
he  set  out. 

A  study  of  fonts  and  their  origin  had  qualified  him 
in  this  particular  subject.  Fully  conscious  of  the  in- 
expediency of  contests  on  minor  ritual  differences,  he 
yet  felt  a  sudden  impulse  towards  a  mild  intellectual 
tournament  with  the  eager  old  man — purely  as  an 
exercise  of  his  wits  in  the  defence  of  a  fair  girl. 

'  Sir,  I  accept  your  challenge  to  us,'  said  Somerset, 
advancing  to  the  minister's  side. 


A   LAODICEAN 


VII 

J\T  the  sound  of  a  new  voice  the  lady  in  the  bower 
started,  as  he  could  see  by  her  outline  through  the 
crevices  of  the  wood-work  and  creepers.  The  minister 
looked  surprised. 

'  You  will  lend  me  your  Bible,  sir,  to  assist  my 
memory  ?  '  he  continued. 

The  minister  held  out  the  Bible  with  some  reluc- 
tance, but  he  allowed  Somerset  to  take  it  from  his  hand. 
The  latter,  stepping  upon  a  large  moss-covered  stone 
which  stood  near,  and  laying  his  hat  on  a  flat  beech 
bough  that  rose  and  fell  behind  him,  pointed  to  the 
minister  to  seat  himself  on  the  grass.  The  minister 
looked  at  the  grass,  and  looked  up  again  at  Somerset, 
but  did  not  move. 

Somerset  for  the  moment  was  not  observing  him. 
His  new  position  had  turned  out  to  be  exactly  opposite 
the  open  side  of  the  bower,  and  now  for  the  first  time 
he  beheld  the  interior.  On  the  seat  was  the  woman 
who  had  stood  beneath  his  eyes  in  the  chapel,  the 
'  Paula '  of  Miss  De  Stancy's  enthusiastic  eulogies.  She 
wore  a  summer  hat,  beneath  which  her  fair  curly  hair 
formed  a  thicket  round  her  forehead.  It  would  be 
impossible  to  describe  her  as  she  then  appeared.  Not 
sensuous  enough  for  an  Aphrodite,  and  too  subdued 
for  a  Hebe,  she  would  yet,  with  the  adjunct  of  doves 

64 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

or  nectar,  have  stood  sufficiently  well  for  either  of  those 
personages,  if  presented  in  a  pink  morning  light,  and 
with  mythological  scarcity  of  attire. 

Half  in  surprise  she  glanced  up  at  him  ;  and  lowering 
her  eyes  again,  as  if  no  surprise  were  ever  let  influence 
her  actions  for  more  than  a  moment,  she  sat  on  as 
before,  looking  past  Somerset's  position  at  the  view 
down  the  river,  visible  for  a  long  distance  before  her  till 
it  was  lost  under  the  bending  trees. 

Somerset  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  minister's 
Bible,  and  began  : — 

'  In  the  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  the  seventh 
chapter  and  the  fourteenth  verse- ' 

Here  the  young  lady  raised  her  eyes  in  spite  of  her 
reserve,  but  it  being,  apparently,  too  much  labour  to 
keep  them  raised,  allowed  her  glance  to  subside  upon 
her  jet  necklace,  extending  it  with  the  thumb  of  her 
left  hand. 

'  Sir !  '  said  the  Baptist  excitedly,  '  I  know  that  pas- 
sage well — it  is  the  last  refuge  of  the  Peedobaptists — I 
foresee  your  argument.  I  have  met  it  dozens  of  times, 
and  it  is  not  worth  that  snap  of  the  fingers  !  It  is  worth 
no  more  than  the  argument  from  circumcision,  or  the 
Suffer-little-children  argument.' 

'  Then  turn  to  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  the  Acts,  and 
the  thirty-third ' 

'  That,  too,'  cried  the  minister,  '  is  answered  by  what 
I  said  before !  I  perceive,  sir,  that  you  adopt  the 
method  of  a  special  pleader,  and  not  that  of  an  honest 
inquirer  Is  it,  or  is  it  not,  an  answer  to  my  proofs 
from  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  Acts,  the  thirty-sixth  and 
thirty-seventh  verses ;  the  sixteenth  of  Mark,  sixteenth 
verse ;  second  of  Acts,  forty-first  verse ;  the  tenth  and 
the  forty-seventh  verse ;  or  the  eighteenth  and  eighth 
verse  ? ' 

'  Very  well,  then.  Let  me  prove  the  point  by  other 
reasoning — by  the  argument  from  Apostolic  tradition.' 

6s  E 


A   LAODICEAN 

He  threw  the  minister's  book  upon  the  grass,  and  pro- 
ceeded with  his  contention,  which  comprised  a  fairly 
good  exposition  of  the  earliest  practice  of  the  Church, 
and  inferences  therefrom.  (When  he  reached  this  point 
an  interest  in  his  off-hand  arguments  was  revealed  by 
the  mobile  bosom  of  Miss  Paula  Power,  though  she 
still  occupied  herself  by  drawing  out  the  necklace.) 
Testimony  from  Justin  Martyr  followed ;  with  infer- 
ences from  Ireneeus  in  the  expression,  '  Omnes  enim 
venit  per  semetipsum  salvare;  omnes  inquam,  qui  per 
eum  renascuntur  in  Deum,  infantes  et  parvulos  et 
pueros  et  juvenes.'  (At  the  sound  of  so  much  serious- 
ness Paula  turned  her  eyes  upon  the  speaker  with  atten- 
tion.) He  next  adduced  proof  of  the  signification  of 
'  renascor '  in  the  writings  of  the  Fathers,  as  reasoned 
by  Wall;  arguments  from  Tertullian's  advice  to  defer 
the  rite ;  citations  from  Cyprian,  Nazianzen,  Chrysos- 
tom,  and  Jerome;  and  briefly  summed  up  the  whole 
matter. 

Somerset  looked  round  for  the  minister  as  he  con- 
cluded. But  the  old  man,  after  standing  face  to  face 
with  the  speaker,  had  turned  his  back  upon  him,  and 
during  the  latter  portions  of  the  attack  had  moved 
slowly  away.  He  now  looked  back  ;  his  countenance 
was  full  of  commiserating  reproach  as  he  lifted  his 
hand,  twice  shook  his  head,  and  said,  '  In  the  Epistle  to 
the  Philippians,  first  chapter  and  sixteenth  verse,  it  is 
written  that  there  are  some  who  preach  in  contention, 
and  not  sincerely.  And  in  the  Second  Epistle  to 
Timothy,  fourth  chapter  and  fourth  verse,  attention  is 
drawn  to  those  whose  ears  refuse  the  truth,  and  are 
turned  unto  fables.  I  wish  you  good  afternoon,  sir,  and 
that  priceless  gift,  sincerity? 

The  minister  vanished  behind  the  trees;  Somerset 
and  Miss  Power  being  left  confronting  each  other 
alone. 

Somerset  stepped  aside  from  the  stone,  hat  in  hand, 

66 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

at  the  same  moment  in  which  Miss  Power  rose  from 
her  seat.  She  hesitated  for  an  instant,  and  said,  with 
a  pretty  girhsh  stiffness,  sweeping  back  the  skirt  of  her 
dress  to  free  her  toes  in  turning :  '  Although  you  are 
personally  unknown  to  me,  I  cannot  leave  you  without 
expressing  my  deep  sense  of  your  profound  scholarship, 
and  my  admiration  for  the  thoroughness  of  your  studies 
in  divinity.' 

*  Your  opinion  gives  me  great  pleasure,'  said  Somer- 
set, bowing,  and  fairly  blushing.  '  But,  believe  me,  I 
am  no  scholar,  and  no  theologian.  My  knowledge  of 
the  subject  arises  simply  from  the  accident  that  some 
few  years  ago  I  looked  into  the  question  for  a  special 
reason.  In  the  study  of  my  profession  I  was  interested 
in  the  designing  of  fonts  and  baptisteries,  and  by  a 
natural  process  I  was  led  to  investigate  the  history  of 
baptism ;  and  some  of  the  arguments  I  then  learnt  up 
still  remain  with  me.  That's  the  simple  explanation  of 
my  erudition.' 

'  If  your  sermons  at  the  church  only  match  your 
address  to-day,  I  shall  not  wonder  at  hearing  that  the 
parishioners  are  at  last  willing  to  attend.' 

It  flashed  upon  Somerset's  mind  that  she  sup- 
posed him  to  be  the  new  curate,  of  whose  arrival 
he  had  casually  heard,  during  his  sojourn  at  the 
inn.  Before  he  could  bring  himself  to  correct 
an  error  to  which,  perhaps,  more  than  to  anything 
else,  was  owing  the  friendliness  of  her  manner,  she 
went  on,  as  if  to  escape  the  embarrassment  of 
silence : — 

'  I  need  hardly  say  that  I  at  least  do  not  doubt  the 
sincerity  of  your  arguments.' 

'  Nevertheless,  I  was  not  altogether  sincere,'  he 
answered. 

She  was  silent. 

'  Then  why  should  you  have  delivered  such  a  defence 
of  me  ?  '  she  asked  with  simple  curiosity. 

67 


A   LAODICEAN 

Somerset  involuntarily  looked  in  her  face  for  his 
answer. 

Paula  again  teased  the  necklace.  '  Would  you  have 
spoken  so  eloquently  on  the  other  side  if  I — if  occasion 
had  served  ?  '  she  inquired  shyly. 

*  Perhaps  I  would.' 

Another  pause,  till  she  said,  '  I,  too,  was  insincere.' 

'  You  ? ' 

'  I  was.' 

'  In  what  way  ?  ' 

'  In  letting  him,  and  you,  think  I  had  been  at  all 
influenced  by  authority,  scriptural  or  patristic' 

'  May  I  ask,  why,  then,  did  you  decline  the  ceremony 
the  other  evening  ?  ' 

'  Ah,  you,  too,  have  heard  of  it ! '  she  said  quickly. 

'No.' 

'  What  then  ?  ' 

'  I  saw  it.' 

She  blushed  and  looked  down  the  river.  '  I  cannot 
give  my  reasons,'  she  said. 

'  Of  course  not,'  said  Somerset. 

'  I  would  give  a  great  deal  to  possess  real  logical 
dogmatism.' 

'  So  would  I.' 

There  was  a  moment  of  embarrassment :  she  wanted 
to  get  away,  but  did  not  precisely  know  how.  He 
would  have  withdrawn  had  she  not  said,  as  if  rather 
oppressed  by  her  conscience,  and  evidently  still  think- 
ing him  the  curate  :  *  I  cannot  but  feel  that  Mr.  Wood- 
well's  heart  has  been  unnecessarily  wounded.' 

'  The  minister's  ?  ' 

'  Yes.  He  is  single-mindedness  itself.  He  gives 
away  nearly  all  he  has  to  the  poor.  He  works  among 
the  sick,  carrying  them  necessaries  with  his  own  hands. 
He  teaches  the  ignorant  men  and  lads  of  the  village 
when  he  ought  to  be  resting  at  home,  till  he  is  absolutely 
prostrate  from  exhaustion,  and  then  he  sits  up  at  night 

68 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

writing  encouraging  letters  to  those  poor  people  who 
formerly  belonged  to  his  congregation  in  the  village,  and 
have  now  gone  away.  He  always  offends  ladies,  be- 
cause he  can't  help  speaking  the  truth  as  he  believes  it ; 
but  he  hasn't  offended  me  ! ' 

Her  feelings  had  risen  towards  the  end,  so  that  she 
finished  quite  warmly,  and  turned  aside. 

'  I  was  not  in  the  least  aware  that  he  was  such  a 
man,'  murmured  Somerset,  looking  wistfully  after  the 
minister.  .  .  .  '  Whatever  you  may  have  done,  I  fear  that 
I  have  grievously  wounded  a  worthy  man's  heart  from  an 
idle  wish  to  engage  in  a  useless,  unbecoming,  dull,  last- 
century  argument.' 

'Not  dull,'  she  murmured,  'for  it  interested  me.' 

Somerset  accepted  her  correction  willingly.  '  It  was 
ill-considered  of  me,  however,'  he  said ;  '  and  in  his 
distress  he  has  forgotten  his  Bible.'  He  went  and 
picked  up  the  worn  volume  from  where  it  la\-  on  the 
grass. 

'  You  can  easily  win  him  to  forgive  you,  by  just 
following,  and  returning  the  book  to  him,'  she  observed. 

'  I  will,'  said  the  young  man  impulsively.  And, 
bowing  to  her,  he  hastened  along  the  river  brink  after 
the  minister.  He  at  length  saw  his  friend  before  him, 
leaning  over  the  gate  which  led  from  the  private  path 
into  a  lane,  his  cheek  resting  on  the  palm  of  his  hand 
with  every  outward  sign  of  abstraction.  He  was  not 
conscious  of  Somerset's  presence  till  the  latter  touched 
him  on  the  shoulder. 

Never  was  a  reconciliation  effected  more  readily. 
When  Somerset  said  that,  fearing  his  motives  might  be 
misconstrued,  he  had  followed  to  assure  the  minister  of 
his  goodwill  and  esteem,  Mr.  ^^'oodwell  held  out  his 
hand,  and  proved  his  friendliness  in  return  by  preparing 
to  have  the  controversy  on  their  religious  differences 
over  again  from  the  beginning,  with  exhaustive  detail. 
Somerset   evaded    this   with    alacrity,    and   once   having 

69 


A   LAODICEAN 

won  his  companion  to  other  subjects,  he  found  that  the 
austere  man  had  a  smile  as  pleasant  as  an  infant's  on 
the  rare  moments  when  he  indulged  in  it ;  moreover, 
that  he  was  warmly  attached  to  Miss  Power. 

'  Though  she  gives  me  more  trouble  than  all  the  rest 
of  the  Baptist  church  in  this  district,'  he  said,  '  I  love 
her  as  my  own  daughter.  But  I  am  sadly  exercised  to 
know  what  she  is  at  heart.  Heaven  supply  me  with 
fortitude  to  contest  her  v/ild  opinions,  and  intractability  ! 
But  she  has  sweet  virtues,  and  her  conduct  at  times  can 
be  most  endearing.' 

'  I  believe  it ! '  said  Somerset,  with  more  fervour  than 
mere  politeness  required. 

'  Sometimes  I  think  those  Stancy  towers  and  lands 
will  be  a  curse  to  her.  The  spirit  of  old  papistical 
times  still  hngers  in  the  nooks  of  those  silent  walls,  like 
a  bad  odour  in  a  still  atmosphere,  dulling  the  iconoclastic 
emotions  of  the  true  Puritan.  It  would  be  a  pity  indeed 
if  she  were  to  be  tainted  by  the  very  situation  that  her 
father's  indomitable  energy  created  for  her.' 

*  Do  not  be  concerned  about  her,'  said  Somerset 
gently.  *  She's  not  a  Predobaptist  at  heart,  although 
she  seems  so.' 

Mr.  Woodwell  placed  his  finger  on  Somerset's  arm, 
saying,  '  If  she's  not  a  Pcedobaptist,  or  Episcopalian  ; 
if  she  is  not  vulnerable  to  the  medieval  influences  of 
her  mansion,  lands,  and  new  acquaintance,  it  is  because 
she's  been  vulnerable  to  what  is  worse :  to  doctrines 
beside  which  the  errors  of  Paedobaptists,  Episcopalians, 
Roman  Catholics,  are  but  as  air.' 

'  How  ?     You  astonish  me.' 

'  Have  you  heard  in  your  metropolitan  experience  of 
a  curious  body  of  New  Lights,  as  they  think  themselves  ? ' 
The  minister  whispered  a  name  to  his  listener,  as  if  he 
were  fearful  of  being  overheard. 

'  O  no,'  said  Somerset,  shaking  his  head,  and  smiling 
at  the  minister's  horror.     '  She's  not  that ;   at  least,  I 

70 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

think  not.  .  .  .  She's  a  woman ;  nothing  more.     Don't 
fear  for  her  ;  all  will  be  well.' 

The  poor  old  man  sighed.  '  I  love  her  as  my  own. 
I  will  say  no  more.' 

Somerset  was  now  in  haste  to  go  back  to  the  lady, 
to  ease  her  apparent  anxiety  as  to  the  result  of  his 
mission,  and  also  because  time  seemed  heavy  in  the  loss 
of  her  discreet  voice  and  soft,  buoyant  look.  Every 
moment  of  delay  began  to  be  as  two.  But  the  minister 
was  too  earnest  in  his  converse  to  see  his  companion's 
haste,  and  it  was  not  till  perception  was  forced  upon 
him  by  the  actual  retreat  of  Somerset  that  he  remem- 
bered time  to  be  a  limited  commodity.  He  then 
expressed  his  wish  to  see  Somerset  at  his  house  to  tea 
any  afternoon  he  could  spare,  and  receiving  the  other's 
promise  to  call  as  soon  as  he  could,  allowed  the  younger 
man  to  set  out  for  the  summer-house,  which  he  did  at 
a  smart  pace.  When  he  reached  it  he  looked  around, 
and  found  she  was  gone. 

Somerset  was  immediately  struck  by  his  own  lack 
of  social  dexterity.  Why  did  he  act  so  readily  on  the 
whimsical  suggestion  of  another  person,  and  follow  the 
minister,  when  he  might  have  said  that  he  would  call 
on  Mr,  Woodwell  to-morrow,  and,  making  himself 
known  to  Miss  Power  as  the  visiting  architect  of  whom 
she  had  heard  from  Miss  De  Stancy,  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  attending  her  to  the  castle  ?  ,■ .  '  That's  what 
any  other  man  would  have  had  wit  enough  to  do ! ' 
he  said. 

There  then  arose  the  question  whether  her  despatch- 
ing him  after  the  minister  was  such  an  admirable  act  of 
good-nature  to  a  good  man  as  it  had  at  first  seemed  to 
be.  Perhaps  it  was  simply  a  manoeuvre  for  getting  rid 
of  himself;  and  he  remembered  his  doubt  whether  a 
certain  light  in  her  eyes  when  she  inquired  concerning 
his  sincerity  were  innocent  earnestness  or  the  reverse. 
As  the  possibility  of  levity  crossed  his  brain,  his  face 

71 


A    LAODICEAN 

warmed  ;  it  pained  him  to  think  that  a  woman  so  in- 
teresting could  condescend  to  a  trick  of  even  so  mild  a 
complexion  as  that.  He  wanted  to  think  her  the  soul 
of  all  that  was  tender,  and  noble,  and  kind.  The 
pleasure  of  setting  himself  to  win  a  minister's  goodwill 
was  a  little  tarnished  now. 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 


VIII 

i  HAT  evening  Somerset  was  so  preoccupied  with 
these  things  that  he  left  all  his  sketching  implements 
out-of-doors  in  the  castle  grounds.  The  next  morning 
he  hastened  thither  to  secure  them  from  being  stolen 
or  spoiled.  Meanwhile  he  was  hoping  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  rectifying  Paula's  mistake  about  his 
personality,  which,  having  served  a  very  good  purpose 
in  introducing  them  to  a  mutual  conversation,  might 
possibly  be  made  just  as  agreeable  as  a  thing  to  be 
explained  away. 

He  fetched  his  drawling  instruments,  rods,  sketching- 
blocks  and  other  articles  from  the  field  where  they  had 
lain,  and  was  passing  under  the  walls  with  them  in  his 
hands,  when  there  emerged  from  the  outer  archway  an 
open  landau,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  black  horses  of  fine 
action  and  obviously  strong  pedigree,  in  which  Paula 
was  seated,  under  the  shade  of  a  white  parasol  with 
black  and  white  ribbons  fluttering  on  the  summit.  The 
morning  sun  sparkled  on  the  equipage,  its  newness  being 
made  all  the  more  noticeable  by  the  ragged  old  arch 
behind. 

She  bowed  to  Somerset  in  a  way  which  might  have 
been  meant  to  express  that  she  had  discovered  her  mis- 
take ;  but  there  was  no  embarrassment  in  her  manner, 
and  the  carriage  bore  her  away  without  her  making  any 

73 


A   LAODICEAN 

sign  for  checking  it.  He  had  not  been  walking  towards 
the  castle  entrance,  and  she  could  not  be  supposed  to 
know  that  it  was  his  intention  to  enter  that  day. 

She  had  looked  such  a  bud  of  youth  and  promise 
that  his  disappointment  at  her  departure  showed  itself 
in  his  face  as  he  observed  her.  However,  he  went  on 
his  way,  entered  a  turret,  ascended  to  the  leads  of  the 
great  tower,  and  stepped  out. 

From  this  elevated  position  he  could  still  see  the 
carriage  and  the  white  surface  of  Paula's  parasol  in  the 
glowing  sun.  While  he  watched  the  landau  stopped, 
and  in  a  few  moments  the  horses  were  turned,  the  wheels 
and  the  panels  flashed,  and  the  carriage  came  bowling 
along  towards  the  castle  again. 

Somerset  descended  the  stone  stairs.  Before  he  had 
quite  got  to  the  bottom  he  saw  Miss  De  Stancy  standing 
in  the  outer  hall. 

'  When  did  you  come,  Mr.  Somerset  ?  '  she  gaily  said, 
looking  up  surprised.  '  How  industrious  you  are  to  be 
at  work  so  regularly  every  day !  We  didn't  think  you 
would  be  here  to-day :  Paula  has  gone  to  a  vegetable 
show  at  Markton,  and  I  am  going  to  join  her  there 
soon.' 

'  O  !  gone  to  a  vegetable  show.  But  I  think  she 
has  altered  her ' 

At  this  moment  the  noise  of  the  carrias:e  was  heard 
in  the  ward,  and  after  a  few  seconds  Miss  Power  came 
in — Somerset  being  invisible  from  the  door  where  she 
stood. 

'  O  Paula,  what  has  brought  you  back  ?  '  said  Miss 
De  Stancy. 

'  I  have  forgotten  something.' 

'  Mr.  Somerset  is  here.     Will  you  not  speak  to  him  ? ' 

Somerset  came  forward,  and  Miss  De  Stancy  pre- 
sented him  to  her  friend.  Mr.  Somerset  acknowledged 
the  pleasure  by  a  respectful  inclination  of  his  person, 
and  said  some  words  about  the  meeting  yesterday. 

74 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

'  Yes,'  said  Miss  Power,  with  a  serene  deliberateness 
quite  noteworthy  in  a  girl  of  her  age ;  '  I  have  seen  it 
all  since.  •  I  was  mistaken  about  you,  was  I  not  ?  Mr. 
Somerset,  I  am  glad  to  welcome  you  here,  both  as  a 
friend  of  Miss  De  Stancy's  family,  and  as  the  son  of 
your  father — which  is  indeed  quite  a  sufficient  intro- 
duction anywhere.' 

'  You  have  two  pictures  painted  by  Mr.  Somerset's 
father,  have  you  not  ?  I  have  already  told  him  about 
them,'  said  INIiss  De  Stancy.  '  Perhaps  Mr.  Somerset 
v.'ould  like  to  see  them  if  they  are  unpacked  ?  ' 

As  Somerset  had  from  his  infancy  suffered  from  a 
plethora  of  those  productions,  excellent  as  they  were,  he 
did  not  reply  quite  so  eagerly  as  Miss  De  Stancy  seemed 
to  expect  to  her  kind  suggestion,  and  Paula  remarked 
to  him,  '  You  will  stay  to  lunch  ?  Do  order  it  at  your 
own  time,  if  our  hour  should  not  be  convenient.' 

Her  voice  was  a  voice  of  low  note,  in  quality  that  of 
a  flute  at  the  grave  end  of  its  gamut.  If  she  sang,  she 
was  a  pure  contralto  unmistakably. 

'  I  am  making  use  of  the  permission  you  have  been 
good  enough  to  grant  me — of  sketching  what  is  valuable 
within  these  walls.' 

'  Yes,  of  course,  I  am  willing  for  anybody  to  come. 
People  hold  these  places  in  trust  for  the  nation,  in  one 
sense.  You  lift  your  hands,  Charlotte ;  I  see  I  have 
not  convinced  you  on  that  point  yet.' 

Miss  De  Stancy  laughed,  and  said  something  to  no 
purpose. 

Somehow  Miss  Power  seemed  not  only  more  woman 
than  Miss  De  Stancy,  but  more  woman  than  Somerset 
was  man  ;  and  yet  in  years  she  was  inferior  to  both. 
Though  becomingly  girlish  and  modest,  she  appeared 
to  possess  a  good  deal  of  composure,  which  was  well 
expressed  by  the  shaded  light  of  her  eyes. 

'  You  have  then  met  Mr.  Somerset  before  ? '  said 
Charlotte. 

" :; 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  He  was  kind  enough  to  deliver  an  address  in  my 
defence  yesterday.  I  suppose  I  seemed  quite  unable  to 
defend  myself 

'  O  no  ! '  said  he. 

When  a  few  more  words  had  passed  she  turned  to 
Miss  De  vStancy  and  spoke  of  some  domestic  matter, 
upon  which  Somerset  withdrew,  Paula  accompanying  his 
exit  with  a  remark  that  she  hoped  to  see  him  again  a 
little  later  in  the  day. 

Somerset  retired  to  the  chambers  of  antique  lumber, 
keeping  an  eye  upon  the  windows  to  see  if  she  re-entered 
the  carriage  and  resumed  her  journey  to  Markton.  But 
when  the  horses  had  been  standing  a  long  time  the 
carriage  was  driven  round  to  the  stables.  Then  she 
was  not  going  to  the  vegetable  show.  That  was  rather 
curious,  seeing  that  she  had  only  come  back  for  some- 
thing forgotten. 

These  queries  and  thoughts  occupied  the  mind  of 
Somerset  until  the  bell  was  rung  for  luncheon.  Owing 
to  the  very  dusty  condition  in  which  he  found  himself 
after  his  morning's  labours  among  the  old  carvings  he 
was  rather  late  in  getting  downstairs,  and  seeing  that  the 
rest  had  gone  in  he  went  straight  to  the  dining-hall. 

The  population  of  the  castle  had  increased  in  his 
absence.  There  were  assembled  Paula  and  her  friend 
Charlotte ;  a  bearded  man  some  years  older  than  him- 
self, with  a  cold  grey  eye,  who  was  cursorily  introduced 
to  him  in  sitting  down  as  Mr.  Havill,  an  architect  of 
Markton ;  also  an  elderly  lady  of  dignified  aspect,  in  a 
black  satin  dress,  of  which  she  apparently  had  a  very 
high  opinion.  This  lady,  who  seemed  to  be  a  mere 
dummy  in  the  establishment,  was,  as  he  now  learnt, 
Mrs.  Goodman  by  name,  a  widow  of  a  recently  deceased 
gentleman,  and  aunt  to  Paula — the  identical  aunt  who 
had  smuggled  Paula  into  a  church  in  her  helpless 
infancy,  and  had  her  christened  without  her  parents' 
knowledge.     Having  been  left  in  narrow  circumstances 

76 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

by  her  husband,  she  was  at  present  living  with  Miss 
Power  as  chaperon  and  adviser  on  practical  matters — 
in  a  word,  as  ballast  to  the  management.  Beyond  her 
Somerset  discerned  his  new  acquaintance  Mr.  Woodwell, 
who  on  sight  of  Somerset  was  for  hastening  up  to  him 
and  performing  a  laboured  shaking  of  hands  in  earnest 
recognition. 

Paula  had  just  come  in  from  the  garden,  and  was 
carelessly  laying  down  her  large  shady  hat  as  he  entered. 
Her  dress,  a  figured  material  in  black  and  white,  was 
short,  allowing  her  feet  to  appear.  There  was  something 
in  her  look,  and  in  the  style  of  her  corsage,  which 
reminded  him  of  several  of  the  bygone  beauties  in  the 
gallery.  The  thought  for  a  moment  crossed  his  mind 
that  she  might  have  been  imitating  one  of  them. 

'  Fine  old  screen,  sir ! '  said  Mr.  Havill,  in  a  long- 
drawn  voice  across  the  table  when  they  were  seated, 
pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  traceried  oak  division 
between  the  dining-hall  and  a  vestibule  at  the  end. 
'  As  good  a  piece  of  fourteenth-century  work  as  you 
shall  see  in  this  part  of  the  country.' 

'  You  mean  fifteenth  century,  of  course  ? '  said 
Somerset. 

Havill  was  silent.  '  You  are  one  of  the  profession, 
perhaps  ?  '  asked  the  latter,  after  a  while. 

'  You  mean  that  I  am  an  architect  ? '  said  Somerset. 
'  Yes.' 

'  Ah — one  of  my  own  honoured  vocation.'  Havill's 
face  had  been  not  unpleasant  until  this  moment,  when 
he  smiled ;  whereupon  there  instantly  gleamed  over  him 
a  phase  of  meanness,  remaining  until  the  smile  died 
away. 

Havill  continued,  with  .slow  watchfulness  : — 

'  What  enormous  sacrileges  are  committed  l)y  the 
builders  every  day,  I  observe !  I  was  driving  yesterday 
to  Toneborough  where  I  am  erecting  a  town-hall,  and 
passing  through  a  village  on  my  way  I  saw  the  workmen 

77 


A   LAODICEAN 

pulling  down  a  chancel-wall  in  which  they  found  im- 
bedded a  unique  specimen  of  Perpendicular  work — a 
capital  from  some  old  arcade — the  mouldings  wonder- 
fully undercut.  They  were  smashing  it  up  as  fiUing-in 
for  the  new  wall.' 

'  It  must  have  been  unique,'  said  Somerset,  in  the 
too-readily  controversial  tone  of  the  educated  young 
man  who  has  yet  to  learn  diplomacy.  '  I  have  never 
seen  much  undercutting  in  Perpendicular  stone-work; 
nor  anybody  else,  I  think.' 

'  O  yes — lots  of  it ! '  said  Mr.  Havill,  nettled. 

Paula  looked  from  one  to  the  other.  '  Which  am 
I  to  take  as  guide  ? '  she  asked.  '  Are  Perpendicular 
capitals  undercut,  as  you  call  it,  Mr.  Havill,  or  no  ? ' 

'  It  depends  upon  circumstances,'  said  Mr.  Havill. 

But  Somerset  had  answered  at  the  same  time  :  '  There 
is  seldom  or  never  any  marked  undercutting  in  moulded 
work  later  than  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century.' 

Havill  looked  keenly  at  Somerset  for  a  time  :  then  he 
turned  to  Paula  :  '  As  regards  that  fine  Saxon  vaulting 
you  did  me  the  honour  to  consult  me  about  the  other 
day,  I  should  advise  taking  out  some  of  the  old  stones 
and  reinstating  new  ones  exactly  like  them.' 

'  But  the  new  ones  won't  be  Saxon,'  said  Paula. 
'  And  then  in  time  to  come,  when  I  have  passed  away, 
and  those  stones  have  become  stained  like  the  rest, 
people  will  be  deceived.  I  should  prefer  an  honest  patch 
to  any  such  make-believe  of  Saxon  relics.' 

As  she  concluded  she  let  her  eyes  rest  on  Somerset 
for  a  moment,  as  if  to  ask  him  to  side  with  her.  Much 
as  he  liked  talking  to  Paula,  he  would  have  preferred  not 
to  enter  into  this  discussion  with  another  professional 
man,  even  though  that  man  were  a  spurious  article ; 
but  he  was  led  on  to  enthusiasm  by  a  sudden  pang  of 
regret  at  finding  that  the  masterly  workmanship  in  this 
fine  castle  was  likely  to  be  tinkered  and  spoilt  by  such 
a  man  as  Havill. 

78 


GEORGE   bOI.lERSET 

'  You  will  deceive  nobody  into  believing  that  any- 
thing is  Saxon  here,'  he  said  warmly.  '  There  is  not  a 
square  inch  of  Saxon  work,  as  it  is  called,  in  the  wliole 
castle.' 

Paula,  in  doubt,  looked  to  Mr.  Havill. 

'  O  yes,  sir ;  you  are  quite  mistaken,'  said  that 
gentleman  slowly.  '  Every  stone  of  those  lower  vaults 
was  reared  in  Saxon  times.' 

'  I  can  assure  you,'  said  Somerset  deferentially,  but 
firmly,  '  that  there  is  not  an  arch  or  wall  in  this  castle  of 
a  date  anterior  to  the  year  1 1  oo  :  no  one  whose  atten- 
tion has  ever  been  given  to  the  study  of  architectural 
details  of  that  age  can  be  of  a  different  opinion.' 

'  I  have  studied  architecture,  and  I  am  of  a  different 
opinion.  I  have  the  best  reason  in  the  world  for  the 
difference,  for  I  have  history  herself  on  my  side.  What 
will  you  say  when  I  tell  you  that  it  is  a  recorded  fact  that 
this  was  used  as  a  castle  by  the  Romans,  and  that  it  is 
mentioned  in  Domesday  as  a  building  of  long  standing  ?  ' 

'  I  shall  say  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  it,'  replied 
the  young  man.  '  I  don't  deny  that  there  may  have 
been  a  castle  here  in  the  time  of  the  Romans  :  what 
I  say  is,  that  none  of  the  architecture  we  now  see  was 
standing  at  that  date.' 

There  w^as  a  silence  of  a  minute,  disturbed  only  by 
a  murmured  dialogue  between  Mrs.  Goodman  and  the 
minister,  during  which  Paula  was  looking  thoughtfully 
on  the  table  as  if  framing  a  question. 

'  Can  it  be,'  she  said  to  Somerset,  '  that  such  certainty 
has  been  reached  in  the  study  of  architectural  dates  ? 
Now,  would  you  really  risk  anything  on  your  belief? 
Would  you  agree  to  be  shut  up  in  the  vaults  and  fed 
upon  bread  and  water  for  a  week  if  I  could  prove  you 
wrong  ? ' 

'  Willingly,'  said  Somerset.  '  The  date  of  those 
towers  and  arches  is  matter  of  absolute  certainty  from 
the  details.     That  they  should  have  been  built  before 

79 


A   LAODICEAN 

the  Conquest  is  as  unlikely  as,  say,  that  the  rustiest  old 
gun  with  a  percussion  lock  should  be  older  than  the 
date  of  Waterloo.' 

'  How  I  wish  I  knew  something  precise  of  an  art 
which  makes  one  so  independent  of  written  history  ! ' 

Mr.  Havill  had  lapsed  into  a  mannerly  silence  that 
was  only  sullenness  disguised.  Paula  turned  her  con- 
versation to  Miss  De  Stancy,  who  had  simply  looked 
from  one  to  the  other  during  the  discussion,  though  she 
might  have  been  supposed  to  have  a  prescriptive  right 
to  a  few  remarks  on  the  matter.  A  commonplace  talk 
ensued,  till  Havill,  who  had  not  joined  in  it,  privately 
began  at  Somerset  again  with  a  mixed  manner  of  cor- 
diality, contempt,  and  misgiving. 

'  You  have  a  practice,  I  suppose,  sir  } ' 

*  I  am  not  in  practice  just  yet.' 
'  Just  beginning  ?  ' 

'  I  am  about  to  begin.' 

*  In  London,  or  near  here  ?  ' 

*  In  London  probably.' 

'  H'm.   ...  I  am  practising  in  Markton.' 

'  Indeed.      Have  you  been  at  it  long  ?  ' 

'  Not  particularly.  I  designed  the  chapel  built  by 
this  lady's  late  father  ;  it  was  my  first  undertaking — I 
owe  my  start,  in  fact,  to  Mr.  Power.  Ever  build  a 
chapel  ? ' 

'  Never.     I  have  sketched  a  good  many  churches.' 

'  Ah — there  we  differ.  I  didn't  do  much  sketching 
in  my  youth,  nor  have  I  time  for  it  now.  Sketching 
and  building  are  two  different  things,  to  my  mind.  I 
was  not  brought  up  to  the  profession  —  got  into  it 
through  sheer  love  of  it.  I  began  as  a  landscape 
gardener,  then  I  became  a  builder,  then  I  was  a  road 
contractor.  Every  architect  might  do  worse  than  have 
some  such  experience.  But  nowadays  'tis  the  men  who 
can  draw  pretty  pictures  who  get  recommended,  not  the 
practical  men.     Young  prigs  win   Institute  medals  for 

80 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

a  pretty  design  or  two  which,  if  anybody  tried  to  build 
them,  would  fall  down  like  a  house  of  cards ;  then  they 
get  travelling  studentships  and  what  not,  and  then  they 
start  as  architects  of  some  new  school  or  other,  and 
think  they  are  the  masters  of  us  experienced  ones.' 

While  Somerset  was  reflecting  how  far  this  statement 
was  true,  he  heard  the  voice  of  Paula  inquiring,  '  Who 
can  he  be  ?  ' 

Her  eyes  were  bent  on  the  mndow.  Looking  out, 
Somerset  saw,  in  the  mead  beyond  the  dry  ditch.  Dare, 
with  his  photographic  apparatus. 

'  He  is  the  young  gentleman  who  called  about  taking 
views  of  the  castle,'  said  Charlotte. 

'  O  yes — I  remember ;  it  is  quite  right.  He  met  me 
in  the  village  and  asked  me  to  suggest  him  some  views. 
I  thought  him  a  respectable  young  fellow.' 

'  I  think  he  is  a  Canadian,'  said  Somerset. 

'  No,'  said  Paula,  '  he  is  from  the  East — at  least  he 
implied  so  to  me.' 

'  There  is  Italian  blood  in  him,'  said  Charlotte 
brightly.  '  For  he  spoke  to  me  with  an  Italian  accent. 
But  I  can't  think  whether  he  is  a  boy  or  a  man.' 

'  It  is  to  be  earnestly  hoped  that  the  gentleman  does 
not  prevaricate,'  said  the  minister,  for  the  first  time 
attracted  by  the  subject.  '  I  accidentally  met  him  in 
the  lane,  and  he  said  something  to  me  about  having 
lived  in  Malta.  I  think  it  was  Malta,  or  Gibraltar — 
even  if  he  did  not  say  that  he  was  born  there.' 

'  His  manners  are  no  credit  to  his  nationality,' 
observed  Mrs.  Goodman,  also  speaking  publicly  for 
the  first  time.  '  He  asked  me  this  morning  to  send 
him  out  a  pail  of  water  for  his  process,  and  before  I 
had  turned  away  he  began  whistling.  I  don't  like 
whistlers.' 

'  Then  it  appears,'  said  Somerset,  '  that  he  is  a  being 
of  no  age,  no  nationality,  and  no  behaviour.' 

'  A    complete    negative,'   added    Havill,    brightening 

8i  F 


A    LAODICEAN 

into  a  civil  sneer.  '  That  is,  he  would  be,  if  he  were 
not  a  maker  of  negatives  well  known  in  Markton.' 

'  Not  well  known,  Mr.  Havill,'  answered  Mrs.  Good- 
man firmly.  '  For  I  lived  in  Markton  for  thirty  years 
ending  three  months  ago,  and  he  was  never  heard  of 
in  my  time.' 

'  He  is  something  like  you,  Charlotte,'  said  Paula, 
smiling  playfully  on  her  companion. 

All  the  men  looked  at  Charlotte,  on  whose  face  a 
delicate  nervous  blush  thereupon  made  its  appearance. 

'  'Pon  my  word  there  is  a  likeness,  now  I  think  of 
it,'  said  Havill. 

Paula  bent  down  to  Charlotte  and  whispered : 
'  Forgive  ray  rwdeness,  dear.  He  is  not  a  nice  enough 
person  to  be  like  you.  He  is  really  more  like  one  or 
other  of  the  old  pictures  about  the  house.  I  forget 
which,  and  really  it  does  not  matter.' 

'  People's  features  fall  naturally  into  groups  and 
classes,'  remarked  Somerset.  '  To  an  observant  person 
they  often  repeat  themselves ;  though  to  a  careless  eye 
they  seem  infinite  in  their  differences.' 

The  conversation  flagged,  and  they  idly  observed  the 
figure  of  the  cosmopolite  Dare  as  he  walked  round  his 
instrument  in  the  mead  and  busied  himself  vdth  an 
arrangement  of  curtains  and  lenses,  occasionally  with- 
drawing a  few  steps,  and  looking  contemplatively  at  the 
towers  and  walls. 


GEORGli    SOMERSET 


IX 

oOMERSET  returned  to  the  top  of  the  great  tower 
with  a  vague  consciousness  that  he  was  going  to  do 
something  up  there — perhaps  sketch  a  general  plan  of 
the  structure.  But  he  began  to  discern  that  this  Stancy- 
Castle  episode  in  his  studies  of  Gothic  architecture 
might  be  less  useful  than  ornamental  to  him  as  a 
professional  man,  though  it  was  too  agreeable  to  be 
abandoned.  Finding  after  a  while  that  his  drawing 
progressed  but  slowly,  by  reason  of  infinite  joyful 
thoughts  more  allied  to  his  nature  than  to  his  art, 
he  rehnquished  rule  and  compass,  and  entered  one 
of  the  two  turrets  opening  on  the  roof  It  was  not 
the  staircase  by  which  he  had  ascended,  and  he  pro- 
ceeded to  explore  its  lower  part.  Entering  from  the 
blaze  of  light  without,  and  imagining  the  stairs  to 
descend  as  usual,  he  became  aware  after  a  few  steps 
that  there  was  suddenly  nothing  to  tread  on,  and  found 
himself  precipitated  downwards  to  a  distance  of  several 
feet. 

Arrived  at  the  bottom,  he  was  conscious  of  the 
happy  fact  that  he  had  not  seriously  hurt  himself, 
though  his  leg  Avas  twisted  awkwardly.  Next  he  per- 
ceived that  the  stone  steps  had  been  removed  from  the 
turret,  so  that  he  had  dropped  into  it  as  into  a  dry 
well ;  that,  owing  to  its  being  walled  up  below^,  there 

83 


A   LAODICEAN 

was  no  door  of  exit  on  either  side  of  him ;  that  he  was, 
in  short,  a  prisoner. 

Placing  himself  in  a  more  comfortable  position  he 
calmly  considered  the  best  means  of  getting  out,  or 
of  making  his  condition  known.  For  a  moment  he 
tried  to  drag  himself  up  by  his  arm,  but  it  was  a 
hopeless  attempt,  the  height  to  the  first  step  being  far 
too  great. 

He  next  looked  round  at  a  lower  level.  Not  far 
from  his  left  elbow,  in  the  concave  of  the  outer  wall, 
was  a  slit  for  the  admission  of  light,  and  he  perceived 
at  once  that  through  this  slit  alone  lay  his  chance  of 
communicating  with  the  outer  world.  At  first  it  seemed 
as  if  it  were  to  be  done  by  shouting,  but  when  he  learnt 
what  little  effect  was  produced  by  his  voice  in  the  midst 
of  such  a  mass  of  masonry,  his  heart  failed  him  for  a 
moment.  Yet,  as  either  Paula  or  Miss  De  Stancy  would 
probably  guess  his  visit  to  the  top  of  the  tower,  there 
was  no  cause  for  terror,  if  some  for  alarm. 

He  put  his  handkerchief  through  the  window-slit,  so 
that  it  fluttered  outside,  and,  fixing  it  in  its  place  by 
a  large  stone  drawn  from  the  loose  ones  around  him, 
awaited  succour  as  best  he  could.  To  begin  this  course 
of  procedure  was  easy,  but  to  abide  in  patience  till  it 
should  produce  fruit  was  an  irksome  task.  As  nearly 
as  he  could  guess — for  his  watch  had  been  stopped  by 
the  fall — it  was  now  about  four  o'clock,  and  it  would  be 
scarcely  possible  for  evening  to  approach  without  some 
eye  or  other  noticing  the  white  signal.  So  Somerset 
waited,  his  eyes  lingering  on  the  little  world  of  objects 
around  him,  till  they  all  became  quite  familiar.  Spiders'- 
webs  in  plenty  were  there,  and  one  in  particular  just 
before  him  was  in  full  use  as  a  snare,  stretching  across 
the  arch  of  the  window,  with  radiating  threads  as  its 
ribs.  Somerset  had  plenty  of  time,  and  he  counted 
their  number — fifteen.  He  remained  so  silent  that  the 
owner  of  this  elaborate  structure  soon  forgot  the  dis- 

84 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

turbance  which  had  resulted  in  the  breaking  of  his 
diagonal  ties,  and  crept  out  from  the  corner  to  mend 
them.  In  watching  the  process,  Somerset  noticed  that 
on  the  stonework  behind  the  web  sundry  names  and 
initials  had  been  cut  by  explorers  in  years  gone  by. 
Among  these  antique  inscriptions  he  observed  two 
bright  and  clean  ones,  consisting  of  the  words  '  De 
Stancy '  and  '  W.  Dare,'  crossing  each  other  at  right 
angles.  From  the  state  of  the  stone  they  could  not 
have  been  cut  more  than  a  month  before  this  date,  and, 
musing  on  the  circumstance,  Somerset  passed  the  time 
until  the  sun  reached  the  slit  in  that  side  of  the  tower, 
where,  beginning  by  throwing  in  a  streak  of  fire  as 
narrow  as  a  corn-stalk,  it  enlarged  its  width  till  the 
dusty  nook  was  flooded  with  cheerful  light.  It  disclosed 
something  lying  in  the  corner,  which  on  examination 
proved  to  be  a  dry  bone.  Whether  it  was  human,  or 
had  come  from  the  castle  larder  in  bygone  times,  he 
could  not  tell.  One  bone  was  not  a  whole  skeleton, 
but  it  made  him  think  of  Ginevra  of  Modena,  the 
heroine  of  the  Mistletoe  Bough,  and  other  cribbed  and 
confined  wretches,  who  had  fallen  into  such  traps  and 
been  discovered  after  a  cycle  of  years. 

The  sun's  rays  had  travelled  some  way  round  the 
interior  when  Somerset's  waiting  ears  were  at  last  at- 
tracted by  footsteps  above,  each  tread  being  brought 
down  by  the  hollow  turret  with  great  fidelity.  He 
hoped  that  with  these  sounds  would  arise  that  of  a  soft 
voice  he  had  begun  to  like  well.  Indeed,  during  the 
solitary  hour  or  two  of  his  waiting  here  he  had  pictured 
Paula  straying  alone  on  the  terrace  of  the  castle,  looking 
up,  noting  his  signal,  and  ascending  to  deliver  him  from 
his  painful  position  by  her  own  exertions.  It  seemed 
that  at  length  his  dream  had  been  verified.  The  foot- 
steps approached  the  opening  of  the  turret ;  and,  at- 
tracted Ijy  the  call  which  Somerset  now  raised,  began 
to  descend  towards   him.      In  a  moment,  not  Paula's 

85 


A   LAODICEAN 

face,  but  that  of  a  dreary  footman  of  her  household, 
looked  into  the  hole. 

Somerset  mastered  his  disappointment,  and  the  man 
speedily  fetched  a  ladder,  by  which  means  the  prisoner 
of  two  hours  ascended  to  the  roof  in  safety.  During 
the  process  he  ventured  to  ask  for  the  ladies  of  the 
house,  and  learnt  that  they  had  gone  out  for  a  drive 
together. 

Before  he  left  the  castle,  however,  they  had  returned, 
a  circumstance  unexpectedly  made  known  to  him  by 
his  receiving  a  message  from  Miss  Power,  to  the  effect 
that  she  would  be  glad  to  see  him  at  his  convenience. 
Wondering  what  it  could  possibly  mean,  he  followed 
the  messenger  to  her  room — a  small  modern  library 
in  the  Jacobean  wing  of  the  house,  adjoining  that  in 
which  the  telegraph  stood.  She  was  alone,  sitting 
behind  a  table  littered  with  letters  and  sketches,  and 
looking  fresh  from  her  drive.  Perhaps  it  was  because 
he  had  been  shut  up  in  that  dismal  dungeon  all  the 
afternoon  that  he  felt  something  in  her  presence  which 
at  the  same  time  charmed  and  refreshed  him. 

She  signified  that  he  was  to  sit  down ;  but  finding 
that  he  was  going  to  place  himself  on  a  straight-backed 
chair  some  distance  off  she  said,  '  Will  you  sit  nearer 
to  me  ? '  and  then,  as  if  rather  oppressed  by  her  dignity, 
she  left  her  own  chair  of  business  and  seated  herself  at 
ease  on  an  ottoman  which  was  among  the  diversified 
furniture  of  the  apartment. 

'  I  want  to  consult  you  professionally,'  she  went  on. 
'  I  have  been  much  impressed  by  your  great  knowledge 
of  castellated  architecture.  Will  you  sit  in  that  leather 
cliair  at  the  table,  as  you  may  have  to  take  notes  ? ' 

The  young  man  assented,  expressed  his  gratification, 
and  went  to  the  chair  she  designated. 

'  But,  Mr.  Somerset,'  she  continued,  from  the  ottoman 
— the  width  of  the  table  only  dividing  them — '  I  first 
should  just  like  to  know,  and  I  trust  you  will  excuse 

86 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

my  inquiry,  if  you  are  an  architect  in  practice,  or  only 
as  yet  studying  for  the  profession  ? ' 

'  I  am  just  going  to  practise.  I  open  my  office  on 
the  first  of  January  next,'  he  answered. 

'  You  would  not  mind  having  me  as  a  client — your 
first  client  ? '  She  looked  curiously  from  her  sideway 
face  across  the  table  as  she  said  this. 

'  Can  you  ask  it ! '  said  Somerset  warmly.  '  What 
are  you  going  to  build  ?  ' 

'  I  am  going  to  restore  the  castle.' 

'  What,  all  of  it  ? '  said  Somerset,  astonished  at  the 
audacity  of  such  an  undertaking. 

'  Not  the  parts  that  are  absolutely  ruinous  :  the  walls 
battered  by  the  Parliament  artillery  had  better  remain 
as  they  are,  I  suppose.  But  we  have  begun  wrong; 
it  is  I  who  should  ask  you,  not  you  me.  ...  I  fear,' 
she  went  on,  in  that  low  note  which  was  somewhat 
difficult  to  catch  at  a  distance,  '  I  fear  what  the  anti- 
quarians will  say  if  I  am  not  very  careful.  They  come 
here  a  great  deal  in  summer,  and  if  I  were  to  do  the 
work  wrong  they  would  put  my  name  in  the  papers  as 
a  dreadful  person.  But  I  must  live  here,  as  I  have 
no  other  house,  except  the  one  in  London,  and  hence 
I  must  make  the  place  habitable.  I  do  hope  I  can 
trust  to  your  judgment  ?  ' 

'  I  hope  so,'  he  said,  with  diffidence,  for,  far  from 
having  much  professional  confidence,  he  often  mistrusted 
himself.  '  I  am  a  Fellow  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries, 
and  a  Member  of  the  Institute  of  British  Architects — 
not  a  Fellow  of  that  body  yet,  though  I  soon  shall  be.' 

'  Then  I  am  sure  you  must  be  trustworthy,'  she  said, 
with  enthusiasm.  '  Well,  what  am  I  to  do  ? — How  do 
we  begin  ? ' 

Somerset  began  to  feel  more  professional,  what  with 
the  business  chair  and  the  table,  and  the  writing-paper, 
notwithstanding  that  these  articles,  and  the  room  they 
were  in,  were  hers  instead  of  his ;  and  an  evenness  of 

87 


A   LAODICEAN 

manner  which  he  had  momentarily  lost  returned  to  him. 
'  The  very  first  step,'  he  said,  '  is  to  decide  upon  the 
outlay — what  is  it  to  cost  ?  ' 

He  faltered  a  little,  for  it  seemed  to  disturb  the  soft- 
ness of  their  relationship  to  talk  thus  of  hard  cash.  But 
her  sympathy  with  his  feeling  was  apparently  not  great, 
and  she  said,  '  The  expenditure  shall  be  what  you 
advise.' 

'  AVhat  a  heavenly  client ! '  he  thought.  '  But  you 
must  just  give  some  idea,'  he  said  gently.  '  For  the 
fact  is,  any  sum  almost  may  be  spent  on  such  a  build- 
ing :  five  thousand,  ten  thousand,  twenty  thousand, 
fifty  thousand,  a  hundred  thousand.' 

'  I  want  it  done  well ;  so  suppose  we  say  a  hundred 
thousand?  My  father's  solicitor— my  soHcitor  now — 
says  I  may  go  to  a  hundred  thousand  without  extra- 
vagance, if  the  expenditure  is  scattered  over  two  or 
three  years.' 

Somerset  look  round  for  a  pen.  With  quickness  of 
insight  she  knew  what  he  wanted,  and  signified  where 
one  could  be  found.      He  wrote  down  in  large  figures — 

£100,000. 

It  was  more  than  he  had  expected  :  and,  for  a  young 
man  just  beginning  practice,  the  opportunity  of  playing 
with  another  person's  money  to  that  extent  would  afford 
an  exceptionally  handsome  opening,  not  so  much  from 
the  commission  it  represented,  as  from  the  attention 
that  would  be  bestowed  by  the  art-world  on  such  an 
undertaking. 

Paula  had  sunk  into  a  reverie.  '  I  was  intending  to 
intrust  the  work  to  Mr.  Havill,  a  local  architect,'  she 
said.  '  But  I  gathered  from  his  conversation  with  you 
to-day  that  his  ignorance  of  styles  might  compromise 
me  very  seriously.  In  short,  though  my  father  em- 
ployed him  in  one  or  two  little  matters,  it  would  not  be 

88 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

right — even  a  morally  culpable  thing — to  place  such  an 
historically  valuable  building  in  his  hands.' 

'  Has  Mr.  Havill  ever  been  led  to  expect  tlie  com- 
mission ?  '  he  asked. 

'  He  may  have  guessed  that  he  would  have  it.  I 
have  spoken  of  my  intention  to  him  more  than  once.' 

Somerset  thought  over  his  conversation  with  Havill. 
Well,  he  did  not  like  Havill  personally  ;  and  he  had 
strong  reasons  for  suspecting  that  in  the  matter  of 
architecture  Havill  was  a  quack.  But  was  it  quite 
generous  to  step  in  thus,  and  take  away  what  would  be 
a  golden  opportunity  to  such  a  man  of  making  both 
ends  meet  comfortably  for  some  years  to  come,  without 
giving  him  at  least  one  chance  ?  He  reflected  a  little 
longer,  and  then  spoke  out  his  feeling, 

'  I  venture  to  propose  a  slightly  modified  arrange- 
ment,' he  said.  '  Instead  of  committing  the  whole 
undertaking  to  my  hands  without  better  proof  of  my 
ability  to  carry  it  out  than  you  have  at  present,  let  there 
be  a  competition  between  Mr.  Havill  and  myself — let 
our  rival  plans  for  the  restoration  and  enlargement  be 
submitted  to  a  committee  of  the  Royal  Institute  of 
British  Architects — and  let  the  choice  rest  with  them, 
subject  of  course  to  your  approval.' 

'  It  is  indeed  generous  of  you  to  suggest  it.'  She 
looked  thoughtfully  at  him ;  he  appeared  to  strike  her 
in  a  new  light.  '  You  really  recommend  it  ? '  The 
fairness  which  had  prompted  his  words  seemed  to 
incline  her  still  more  than  before  to  resign  herself  en- 
tirely to  him  in  the  matter. 

'  I  do,'  said  Somerset  deliberately. 

'  I  will  think  of  it,  since  you  wish  it.  And  now, 
what  general  idea  have  you  of  the  plan  to  adopt  ?  I  do 
not  positively  agree  to  your  suggestion  as  yet,  so  I  may 
perhaps  ask  the  question.' 

Somerset,  being  by  this  time  familiar  with  the  general 
plan  of  the  castle,  took  out  his  pencil  and  made  a  rough 

89 


A   LAODICEAN 

sketch.  While  he  was  doing  it  she  rose,  and  coming 
to  the  back  of  his  chair,  bent  over  him  in  silence. 

'Ah,  I  begin  to  see  your  conception,'  she  mur- 
mured ;  and  the  breath  of  her  words  fanned  his  ear.  He 
finished  the  sketch,  and  held  it  up  to  her,  saying — 

'  I  would  suggest  that  you  walk  over  the  building 
with  Mr.  Havill  and  myself,  and  detail  your  ideas  to  us 
on  each  portion,' 

'  Is  it  necessary  ?  ' 

-  Clients  mostly  do  it.' 

'  I  will,  then.  But  it  is  too  late  for  me  this  evening= 
Please  meet  me  to-morrow  at  ten.' 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 


J\T  ten  o'clock  they  met  in  the  same  room,  Paula 
appearing  in  a  straw  hat  having  a  bent-up  brim  lined 
with  plaited  silk,  so  that  it  surrounded  her  forehead 
like  a  nimbus ;  and  Somerset  armed  with  sketch-book, 
measuring-rod,  and  other  apparatus  of  his  craft. 

'  And  Mr.  Havill  ?  '  said  the  young  man. 

'  I  have  not  decided  to  employ  him  :  if  I  do  he  shall 
go  round  with  me  independently  of  you,'  she  replied 
rather  brusquely. 

Somerset  was  by  no  means  sorry  to  hear  this.  His 
duty  to  Havill  was  done. 

'  And  now,'  she  said,  as  they  walked  on  together 
through  the  passages,  '  I  must  tell  you  that  I  am  not 
a  medievalist  myself;  and  perhaps  that's  a  pity.' 

'  What  are  you  ?  ' 

'  I  am  Greek — that's  why  I  don't  wish  to  influence 
your  design.' 

Somerset,  as  they  proceeded,  pointed  out  where  roofs 
had  been  and  should  be  again,  where  gables  had  been 
pulled  down,  and  where  floors  had  vanished,  showing  her 
how  to  reconstruct  their  details  from  marks  in  the  walls, 
much  as  a  comparative  anatomist  reconstructs  an  ante- 
diluvian from  fragmentary  bones  and  teeth.  She  ap- 
peared to  be  interested,  listened  attentively,  but  said 
little  in  reply.     They  were  ultimately  in  a  long  narrow 

91 


A   LAODICEAN 

passage,  indifferently  lighted,  when  Somerset,  treading 
on  a  loose  stone,  felt  a  twinge  of  weakness  in  one  knee, 
and  knew  in  a  moment  that  it  was  the  result  of  the  twist 
given  by  his  yesterday's  fall.  He  paused,  leaning  against 
the  wall. 

'  What  is  it  ?  '  said  Paula,  with  a  sudden  timidity  in 
her  voice. 

'  I  slipped  down  yesterday,'  he  said.  '  It  will  be  right 
in  a  moment.' 

'  I — can  I  help  you  ?  '  said  Paula.  But  she  did  not 
come  near  him ;  indeed,  she  withdrew  a  little.  She 
looked  up  the  passage,  and  down  the  passage,  and  be- 
came conscious  that  it  was  long  and  gloomy,  and  that 
nobody  was  near.  A  curious  coy  uneasiness  seemed  to 
take  possession  of  her.  Whether  she  thought,  for  the 
first  time,  that  she  had  made  a  mistake^ — that  to  wander 
about  the  castle  alone  with  him  was  compromising,  or 
whether  it  was  the  mere  shy  instinct  of  maidenhood, 
nobody  knows ;  but  she  said  suddenly,  '  I  will  get  some- 
thing for  you,  and  return  in  a  few  minutes.' 

'  Pray  don't— it  has  quite  passed  !  '  he  said,  stepping 
out  again. 

But  Paula  had  vanished.  When  she  came  back  it 
w^as  in  the  rear  of  Charlotte  De  Stancy.  Miss  De  Stancy 
had  a  tumbler  in  one  hand,  half  full  of  wine,  which  she 
offered  him ;  Paula  remaining  in  the  background. 

He  took  the  glass,  and,  to  satisfy  his  companions, 
drank  a  mouthful  or  two,  though  there  was  really  nothing 
whatever  the  matter  with  him  beyond  the  slight  ache 
above  mentioned.  Charlotte  was  going  to  retire,  but 
Paula  said,  quite  anxiously,  '  You  will  stay  with  me, 
Charlotte,  won't  you  ?  Surely  you  are  interested  in  what 
I  am  doing  ?  ' 

'  What  is  it  ?  '  said  Miss  De  Stancy. 

'  Planning  how  to  mend  and  enlarge  the  castle.  Tell 
Mr.  Somerset  what  I  want  done  in  the  quadrangle — you 
know  quite  well — and  I  will  walk  on.' 

92 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

She  walked  on  ;  but  instead  of  talking  on  the  subject 
as  directed,  Charlotte  and  Somerset  followed  chatting  on 
indifferent  matters.  They  came  to  an  inner  court  and 
found  Paula  standing  there. 

She  met  Miss  De  Stancy  with  a  smile.  '  Did  you 
explain  ?  '  she  asked, 

'  I  have  not  explained  yet.'  Paula  seated  herself  on 
a  stone  bench,  and  Charlotte  went  on  :  '  Miss  Power 
thought  of  making  a  Greek  court  of  this.  But  she  will 
not  tell  you  so  herself,  because  it  seems  such  dreadful 
anachronism.' 

'  I  said  I  would  not  tell  any  architect  myself,'  inter- 
posed Paula  correctingly.  '  I  did  not  then  know  that 
he  would  be  Mr.  Somerset.' 

'  It  is  rather  startling,'  said  Somerset. 

'  A  Greek  colonnade  all  round,  you  said,  Paula,' 
continued  her  less  reticent  companion.  '  A  peristyle 
you  called  it — you  saw  it  in  a  book,  don't  you  remem- 
ber ? — and  then  you  were  going  to  have  a  fountain  in 
the  middle,  and  statues  like  those  in  the  British 
Museum.' 

'  I  did  say  so,'  remarked  Paula,  pulling  the  leaves 
from  a  young  sycamore-tree  that  had  sprung  up  between 
the  joints  of  the  paving. 

From  the  spot  where  they  sat  they  could  see  over  the 
roofs  the  upper  part  of  the  great  tower  wherein  Somer- 
set had  met  with  his  misadventure.  The  tower  stood 
boldly  up  in  the  sun,  and  from  one  of  the  slits  in  the 
corner  something  white  waved  in  the  breeze. 

'  \Miat  can  that  be  ? '  said  Charlotte.  '  Is  it  the 
fluff  of  owls,  or  a  handkerchief?  ' 

'  It  is  my  handkerchief,'  Somerset  answered.  '  I  fixed 
it  there  with  a  stone  to  attract  attention,  and  forgot  to 
take  it  away.' 

All  three  looked  up  at  the  handkerchief  with  interest. 
*  AMiy  did  you  want  to  attract  attention  ?  '  said  Paula. 

'  O,  I  fell  into  the  turret ;  but  I  got  out  very  easily.' 

93 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  O  Paula,'  said  Charlotte,  turning  to  her  friend, 
'  that  must  be  the  place  where  the  man  fell  in,  years 
ago,  and  was  starved  to  death  ! ' 

'  Starved  to  death  ?  '  said  Paula. 

'  They  say  so.  O  Mr.  Somerset,  what  an  escape  ! ' 
And  Charlotte  De  Stancy  walked  away  to  a  point  from 
which  she  could  get  a  better  view  of  the  treacherous 
turret. 

'  Whom  did  you  think  to  attract  ?  '  asked  Paula,  after 
a  pause. 

'  I  thought  you  might  see  it.' 

'  Me  personally  ?  '  And,  blushing  faintly,  her  eyes 
rested  upon  him. 

'  I  hoped  for  anybody.  I  thought  of  you,'  said 
Somerset. 

She  did  not  continue.  In  a  moment  she  arose  and 
went  across  to  Miss  Ue  Stancy.  '  Don't  you  go  falling 
down  and  becoming  a  skeleton,'  she  said — Somerset 
overheard  the  words,  though  Paula  was  unaware  of  it — 
after  which  she  clasped  her  fingers  behind  Charlotte's 
neck,  and  smiled  tenderly  in  her  face. 

It  seemed  to  be  quite  unconsciously  done,  and 
Somerset  thought  it  a  very  beautiful  action.  Presently 
Paula  returned  to  him  and  said,  '  Mr.  Somerset,  I  think 
we  have  had  enough  architecture  for  to-day.' 

The  two  women  then  wished  him  good-morning  and 
went  away.  Somerset,  feeling  that  he  had  now  every 
reason  for  prowling  about  the  castle,  remained  near  the 
spot,  endeavouring  to  evolve  some  plan  of  procedure 
for  the  project  entertained  by  the  beautiful  owner  of 
those  weather-scathed  walls.  But  for  a  long  time  the 
mental  perspective  of  his  new  position  so  excited  the 
emotional  side  of  his  nature  that  he  could  not  concen- 
trate it  on  feet  and  inches.  As  Paula's  architect  (sup- 
posing Havill  not  to  be  admitted  as  a  competitor),  he 
must  of  necessity  be  in  constant  communication  with 
her  for  a  space  of  two  or  three  years  to  come;    and 

94 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

particularly  during  the  next  few  months.  She,  doubt- 
less, cherished  far  too  ambitious  views  of  her  career  to 
feel  any  personal  interest  in  this  enforced  relationship 
with  him ;  but  he  would  be  at  liberty  to  feel  what  he 
chose :  and  to  be  the  victim  of  an  unrequited  passion, 
while  afforded  such  splendid  opportunities  of  communion 
with  the  one  beloved,  deprived  that  passion  of  its  most 
deplorable  features.  Accessibility  is  a  great  point  in 
matters  of  love,  and  perhaps  of  the  two  there  is  less 
misery  in  loving  without  return  a  goddess  who  is  to  be 
seen  and  spoken  to  every  day,  than  in  having  an  affection 
tenderly  reciprocated  by  one  always  hopelessly  removed. 

With  this  view  of  having  to  spend  a  considerable 
time  in  the  neighbourhood  Somerset  shifted  his  quarters 
that  afternoon  from  the  little  inn  at  Sleeping-Green  to 
a  larger  one  at  Markton.  He  required  more  rooms  in 
which  to  carry  out  Paula's  instructions  than  the  former 
place  afforded,  and  a  more  central  position.  Having 
reached  and  dined  at  Markton  he  found  the  evening 
tedious,  and  again  strolled  out  in  the  direction  of  the 
castle. 

When  he  reached  it  the  light  was  declining,  and  a 
solemn  stillness  overspread  the  pile.  The  great  tower 
was  in  full  view.  That  spot  of  white  which  looked  like  a 
pigeon  fluttering  from  the  loophole  was  his  handkerchief, 
still  hanging  in  the  place  where  he  had  left  it.  His  eyes 
yet  lingered  on  the  walls  when  he  noticed,  with  surprise, 
that  the  handkerchief  suddenly  vanished. 

Believing  that  the  l^reezes,  though  weak  below,  might 
have  been  strong  enough  at  that  height  to  blow  it  into 
the  turret,  and  in  no  hurry  to  get  off  the  premises,  he 
leisurely  climbed  up  to  find  it,  ascending  by  the  second 
staircase,  crossing  the  roof,  and  going  to  the  top  of  the 
treacherous  turret.  The  ladder  by  which  he  had  escaped 
still  stood  within  it,  and  beside  the  ladder  he  beheld  the 
dim  outline  of  a  woman,  in  a  meditative  attitude,  holding 
his  handkerchief  in  her  hand. 

95 


A   LAODICEAN 

Somerset  softly  withdrew.  When  he  had  reached 
the  ground  he  looked  up.  A  girlish  form  was  standing 
at  the  top  of  the  tower  looking  over  the  parapet  upon 
him — possibly  not  seeing  him,  for  it  was  dark  on  the 
lawn.  It  was  either  Miss  De  Stancy  or  Paula ;  one  of 
them  had  sone  there  alone  for  his  handkerchief  and 
had  remained  awhile,  pondering  on  his  escape.  But 
which  ?  '  If  I  were  not  a  faint-heart  I  should  run  all 
risk  and  wave  my  hat  or  kiss  my  hand  to  her,  whoever 
she  is,'  he  thought.     But  he  did  not  do  either. 

So  he  lingered  about  silently  in  the  shades,  and  then 
thought  of  strolling  to  his  rooms  at  Markton.  Just  at 
leaving,  as  he  passed  under  the  inhabited  wing,  whence 
one  or  two  lights  now  blinked,  he  heard  a  piano,  and  a 
voice  singing  '  The  Mistletoe  Bough.'  The  song  had 
probably  been  suggested  to  the  romantic  fancy  of  the 
singer  by  her  visit  to  the  scene  of  his  captivity. 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 


XI 

1  HE  identity  of  the  lady  whom  he  had  seen  on  the 
tower  and  afterwards  heard  singing  was  established  the 
next  day. 

'  I  have  been  thinking,'  said  Miss  Power,  on  meeting 
him,  '  that  you  may  require  a  studio  on  the  premises. 
If  so,  the  room  I  showed  you  yesterday  is  at  your 
service.  If  I  employ  Mr.  Havill  to  compete  with  you 
I  will  offer  him  a  similar  one.' 

Somerset  did  not  decline ;  and  she  added,  '  In  the 
same  room  you  will  find  the  handkerchief  that  was  left 
on  the  tower.' 

'  Ah,  I  saw  that  it  was  gone.  Somebody  brought  it 
down  ? ' 

'  I  did,'  she  shyly  remarked,  looking  up  for  a  second 
under  her  shady  hat-brim. 

'  I  am  much  obliged  to  you.' 

'  O  no.  I  went  up  last  night  to  see  where  the  acci- 
dent happened,  and  there  I  found  it.  When  you  came  up 
were  you  in  search  of  it,  or  did  you  want  me  ? ' 

'  Then  she  saw  me,'  he  thought.  '  I  went  for  the 
handkerchief  only ;  I  was  not  aware  that  you  were  there,' 
he  answered  simply.     And  he  involuntarily  sighed. 

It  was  very  soft,  but  she  might  have  heard  him,  for 
there  was  interest  in  her  voice  as  she  continued,  '  Did 
you  see  me  before  you  went  back  ? ' 

97  G 


A    LAODICEAN 

'  I  did  not  know  it  was  you ;  I  saw  that  some  lady 
was  tliere,  and  I  would  not  disturb  her.  I  wondered 
all  the  evening  if  it  were  you.' 

Paula  hastened  to  explain :  '  We  understood  that 
you  would  stay  to  dinner,  and  as  you  did  not  come  in 
we  wondered  where  you  were.  That  made  me  think 
of  your  accident,  and  after  dinner  I  went  up  to  the 
place  where  it  happened.' 

Somerset  almost  wished  she  had  not  explained  so 
lucidly. 

And  now  followed  the  piquant  days  to  which  his 
position  as  her  architect,  or,  at  worst,  as  one  of  her 
two  architects,  naturally  led.  His  anticipations  were 
for  once  surpassed  by  the  reality.  Perhaps  Somerset's 
inherent  unfitness  for  a  professional  life  under  ordinary 
circumstances  was  only  proved  by  his  great  zest  for  it 
now.  Had  he  been  in  regular  practice,  v/ith  numerous 
other  clients,  instead  of  having  merely  made  a  start  with 
this  one,  he  would  have  totally  neglected  their  business 
in  his  exclusive  attention  to  Paula's. 

The  idea  of  a  competition  between  .Somerset  and 
Havill  had  been  highly  approved  by  Paula's  solicitor, 
but  she  would  not  assent  to  it  as  yet,  seeming  quite 
vexed  that  Somerset  should  not  have  taken  the  good 
the  gods  provided  without  questioning  her  justice  to 
Havill.  The  room  she  had  offered  him  was  prepared 
as  a  studio.  Drawing-boards  and  Whatman's  paper 
were  sent  for,  and  in  a  few  days  Somerset  began 
serious  labour.  His  first  requirement  was  a  clerk  or 
two,  to  do  the  drudgery  of  measuring  and  figuring ;  but 
for  the  present  he  preferred  to  sketch  alone.  Some- 
times, in  measuring  the  outworks  of  the  castle,  he 
ran  against  Havill  strolling  about  with  no  apparent 
object,  who  bestowed  on  him  an  envious  nod,  and 
passed  by. 

'  I  hope  you  will  not  make  your  sketches,'  she  said, 
looking  in  upon  him  one  day,  'and  then  go  away  to 

98 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

your  studio  in  London  and  think  of  your  other  buildings 
and  forget  mine.  I  am  in  haste  to  begin,  and  wish  you 
not  to  neglect  me.' 

'  I  have  no  other  building  to  think  of,'  said  Somerset, 
rising  and  placing  a  chair  for  her.  '  I  had  not  begun 
practice,  as  you  may  know.  I  have  nothing  else  in 
hand  but  your  castle.' 

'  I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  say  I  am  glad  of  it ;  but 
it  is  an  advantage  to  have  an  architect  all  to  one's  self. 
The  architect  whom  I  at  first  thought  of  told  me  before 
I  knew  you  that  if  I  placed  the  castle  in  his  hands 
he  would  undertake  no  other  commission  till  its  com- 
pletion.' 

'  I  agree  to  the  same,'  said  Somerset. 

'  I  don't  wish  to  bind  you.  But  I  hinder  you  now 
— do  pray  go  on  without  reference  to  me.  When  will 
there  be  some  drawing  for  me  to  see  ? ' 

'  I  will  take  care  that  it  shall  be  soon.' 

He  had  a  metallic  tape  in  his  hand,  and  went  out  of 
the  room  to  take  some  dimension  in  the  corridor.  The 
assistant  for  whom  he  had  advertised  had  not  arrived, 
and  he  attempted  to  fix  the  end  of  the  tape  by  sticking 
his  penknife  through  the  ring  into  the  wall.  Paula 
looked  on  at  a  distance. 

'  I  will  hold  it,'  she  said. 

She  went  to  the  required  corner  and  held  the  end 
in  its  place.  She  had  taken  it  the  wrong  way,  and 
Somerset  went  over  and  placed  it  properly  in  her  fingers, 
carefully  avoiding  to  touch  them.  She  obediently  raised 
her  hand  to  the  corner  again,  and  stood  till  he  had 
finished,  when  she  asked,  '  Is  that  all  ?  ' 

'  That  is  all,'  said  Somerset.  '  Thank  you.'  Without 
further  speech  she  looked  at  his  sketch-book,  while  he 
marked  down  the  lines  just  acquired. 

'  You  said  the  other  day,'  she  observed,  '  that  early 
Gothic  work  might  be  known  by  the  under-cutting,  or 
something  to  that  effect.     I  have  looked  in  Rickmnn 

99 


A    LAODICEAN 

and  the  Oxford  Glossary,  but  I  cannot  quite  understand 
what  you  meant.' 

It  was  only  too  probable  to  her  lover,  from  the  way 
in  which  she  turned  to  him,  that  she  had  looked  in 
Rickman  and  the  Glossary,  and  was  thinking  of  nothing 
in  the  world  but  of  the  subject  of  her  inquiry. 

'  I  can  show  you,  by  actual  example,  if  you  will  come 
to  the  chapel  ? '  he  returned  hesitatingly. 

'  Don't  go  on  purpose  to  show  me — when  you  are 
there  on  your  own  account  I  will  come  in.' 

'  I  shall  be  there  in  half-an-hour.' 

'  Very  well,'  said  Paula.  She  looked  out  of  a  window, 
and,  seeing  Miss  De  Stancy  on  the  terrace,  left  him. 

Somerset  stood  thinking  of  what  he  had  said.  He 
had  no  occasion  whatever  to  go  into  the  chapel  of  the 
castle  that  day.  He  had  been  tempted  by  her  words 
to  say  he  would  be  there,  and  '  half-an-hour '  had  come 
to  his  lips  almost  without  his  knowledge.  This  com- 
munity of  interest — if  it  were  not  anything  more  tender 
— was  growing  serious.  What  had  passed  between 
them  amounted  to  an  appointment :  they  were  going 
to  meet  in  the  most  soUtary  chamber  of  the  whole 
solitary  pile.  Could  it  be  that  Paula  had  well  con- 
sidered this  in  replying  with  her  friendly  '  Very  well  ? ' 
Probably  not. 

Somerset  proceeded  to  the  chapel  and  waited.  With 
the  progress  of  the  seconds  towards  the  half-hour  he 
began  to  discover  that  a  dangerous  admiration  for  this 
girl  had  risen  within  him.  Yet  so  imaginative  was  his 
passion  that  he  hardly  knew  a  single  feature  of  her 
countenance  well  enough  to  remember  it  in  her  absence. 
The  meditative  judgment  of  things  and  men  which  had 
been  his  habit  up  to  the  moment  of  seeing  her  in 
the  Baptist  chapel  seemed  to  have  left  him — nothing 
remained  but  a  distracting  wish  to  be  always  near  her, 
and  it  was  quite  with  dismay  that  he  recognized 
what    immense    importance    he    was    attaching    to    the 

JQp 


GEORGE    SOMERSET 

question  whether  she  would  keep  the  trifling  engagement 
or  not. 

The  chapel  of  Stancy  Castle  was  a  silent  place, 
heaped  up  in  corners  with  a  lumber  of  old  panels,  frame- 
work, and  broken  coloured  glass.  Here  no  clock  could 
be  heard  beating  out  the  hours  of  the  day- — here  no 
voice  of  priest  or  deacon  had  for  generations  uttered 
the  daily  service  denoting  how  the  year  rolls  on.  The 
stagnation  of  the  spot  was  sufficient  to  draw  Somerset's 
mind  for  a  moment  from  the  subject  which  absorbed  it, 
and  he  thought,  '  So,  too,  will  time  triumph  over  all  this 
fervour  within  me.' 

Lifting  his  eyes  from  the  floor  on  which  his  foot  had 
been  tapping  nervously,  he  saw  Paula  standing  at  the 
other  end.  It  was  not  so  pleasant  when  he  also  saw 
that  Mrs.  Goodman  accompanied  her.  The  latter  lady, 
however,  obligingly  remained  where  she  was  resting, 
while  Paula  came  forward,  and,  as  usual,  paused  without 
speaking. 

'  It  is  in  this  little  arcade  that  the  example  occurs,' 
said  Somerset, 

'  O  yes,'  she  answered,  turning  to  look  at  it. 

'  Early  piers,  capitals,  and  mouldings,  generally  alter- 
nated with  deep  hollows,  so  as  to  form  strong  shadows. 
Now  look  under  the  abacus  of  this  capital;  you  will 
find  the  stone  hollowed  out  wonderfully;  and  also  in 
this  arch-mould.  It  is  often  difficult  to  understand  how 
it  could  be  done  without  cracking  off  the  stone.  The 
difference  between  this  and  late  work  can  be  felt  by  the 
hand  even  better  than  it  can  be  seen.'  He  suited  the 
action  to  the  word  and  placed  his  hand  in  the  hollow. 

She  listened  attentively,  then  stretched  up  her  own 
hand  to  test  the  cutting  as  he  had  done ;  she  was  not 
quite  tall  enough ;  she  would  step  upon  this  piece  of 
wood.  Having  done  so  she  tried  again,  and  succeeded 
in  putting  her  finger  on  the  spot.  No ;  she  could  not 
understand  it  through  her  glove  even  now.     She  pulled 

lOI 


A   LAODICEAN 

off  her  glove,  and,  her  hand  resting  in  the  stone  channel, 
her  eyes  became  abstracted  in  the  effort  of  realization, 
the  ideas  derived  through  her  hand  passing  into  her 
face. 

'  No,  I  am  not  sure  now,'  she  said. 

Somerset  placed  his  own  hand  in  the  cavity.  Now 
their  two  hands  were  close  together  again.  They  had 
been  close  together  half-an-hour  earlier,  and  he  had 
sedulously  avoided  touching  hers.  He  dared  not  let 
such  an  accident  happen  now.  And  yet — surely  she 
saw  the  situation !  Was  the  inscrutable  seriousness 
with  which  she  applied  herself  to  his  lesson  a  mockery  ? 
There  was  such  a  bottomless  depth  in  her  eyes  that  it 
was  impossible  to  guess  truly.  Let  it  be  that  destiny 
alone  had  ruled  that  their  hands  should  be  together  a 
second  time. 

All  rumination  was  cut  short  by  an  impulse.  He 
seized  her  forefinger  between  his  own  finger  and  thumb, 
and  drew  it  along  the  hollow,  saying,  '  That  is  the  curve 
I  mean.' 

Somerset's  hand  was  hot  and  trembling ;  Paula's,  on 
the  contrary,  was  cool  and  soft  as  an  infant's. 

'  Now  the  arch-mould,'  continued  he.  '  There — the 
depth  of  that  cavity  is  tremendous,  and  it  is  not 
geometrical,  as  in  later  work.'  He  drew  her  unresisting 
fingers  from  the  capital  to  the  arch,  and  laid  them  in 
the  little  trench  as  before. 

She  allowed  them  to  rest  quietly  there  till  he  relin- 
quished them.  '  Thank  you,'  she  then  said,  withdrawing 
her  hand,  brushing  the  dust  from  her  finger-tips,  and 
putting  on  her  glove. 

Her  imperception  of  his  feeling  was  the  very  sublimity 
of  maiden  innocence  if  it  were  real;  if  not,  well,  the 
coquetry  was  no  great  sin. 

'  Mr.  Somerset,  will  you  allow  me  to  have  the  Greek 
court  I  mentioned  ? '  she  asked  tentatively,  after  a  long 
break  in  their  discourse,  as  she  scanned  the  green  stones 

T02 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

along  the  base  of  the  arcade,  with  a  conjectural  counte- 
nance as  to  his  reply. 

'Will  your  own  feeling  for  the  genius  of  the  place 
allow  you  ? ' 

'  I  am  not  a  medisevalist :  I  am  an  eclectic' 

'  You  don't  dislike  your  own  house  on  that  account.' 

'  I  did  at  first — I  don't  so  much  now.  ...  I  should 
love  it,  and  adore  every  stone,  and  think  feudalism  the 
only  true  romance  of  life,  if ' 

'  What  ? ' 

'  If  I  were  a  De  Stancy,  and  the  castle  the  long 
home  of  my  forefathers.' 

Somerset  was  a  little  surprised  at  the  avowal :  the 
minister's  words  on  the  effects  of  her  new  environment 
recurred  to  his  mind.  '  Miss  De  Stancy  doesn't  think 
so,'  he  said.      '  She  cares  nothing  about  those  things.' 

Paula  now  turned  to  him  :  hitherto  her  remarks  had 
been  sparingly  spoken,  her  eyes  being  directed  else- 
where :  '  Yes,  that  is  very  strange,  is  it  not  ? '  she  said. 
'  But  it  is  owing  to  the  joyous  freshness  of  her  nature 
which  precludes  her  from  dwelling  on  the  past — indeed, 
the  past  is  no  more  to  her  than  it  is  to  a  sparrow  or 
robin.  She  is  scarcely  an  instance  of  the  wearing  out 
of  old  families,  for  a  younger  mental  constitution  than 
hers  I  never  knew." 

'  Unless  that  very  simplicity  represents  the  second 
childhood  of  her  line,  rather  than  her  own  exclusive 
character.' 

Paula  shook  her  head.  '  In  spite  of  the  Greek 
court,  she  is  more  Greek  than  I.' 

'  You  represent  science  rather  than  art,  perhaps.' 

'  How  ? '  she  asked,  glancing  up  under  her  hat. 

'  I  mean,'  replied  Somerset,  '  that  you  represent  the 
march  of  mind — the  steamship,  and  the  railway,  and  the 
thoughts  that  shake  mankind.' 

She  weighed  his  words,  and  said :  '  Ah,  yes :  you 
allude  to  my  father.     My  father  was  a  great  man ;  but 

103 


A   LAODICEAN 

I  am  more  and  more  forgetting  his  greatness  :  that  kind 
of  greatness  is  what  a  woman  can  never  truly  enter  into. 
I  am  less  and  less  his  daughter  every  day  that  goes  by.' 

She  walked  away  a  few  steps  to  rejoin  the  excellent 
Mrs.  Goodman,  who,  as  Somerset  still  perceived,  was 
waiting  for  Paula  at  the  discreetest  of  distances  in  the 
shadows  at  the  farther  end  of  the  building.  Surely 
Paula's  voice  had  faltered,  and  she  had  turned  to  hide 
a  tear  ? 

She  came  back  again,  '  Did  you  know  that  my 
father  made  half  the  railways  in  Europe,  including  that 
one  over  there  ? '  she  said,  waving  her  little  gloved  hand 
in  the  direction  whence  low  rumbles  were  occasionally 
heard  during  the  day. 

'  Yes.' 

'  How  did  you  know  ?  ' 

'  Miss  De  Stancy  told  me  a  little  ;  and  I  then  found 
his  name  and  doings  were  quite  familiar  to  me.' 

Curiously  enough,  with  his  words  there  came  through 
the  broken  windows  the  murmur  of  a  train  in  the  dis- 
tance, sounding  clearer  and  more  clear.  It  was  nothing 
to  listen  to,  yet  they  both  listened ;  till  the  increasing 
noise  suddenly  broke  off  into  dead  silence. 

'  It  has  gone  into  the  tunnel,'  said  Paula.  '  Have 
you  seen  the  tunnel  my  father  made?  the  curves  are 
said  to  be  a  triumph  of  science.  There  is  nothing  else 
like  it  in  this  part  of  England.' 

'  There  is  not :  I  have  heard  so.  But  I  have  not 
seen  it.' 

'  Do  you  think  it  a  thing  more  to  be  proud  of  that 
one's  father  should  have  made  a  great  tunnel  and  rail- 
way like  that,  than  that  one's  remote  ancestor  should 
have  built  a  great  castle  like  this  ?  ' 

What  could  Somerset  say  ?  It  would  have  required 
a  casuist  to  decide  whether  his  answer  should  depend 
upon  his  conviction,  or  upon  the  family  ties  of  such  a 
questioner.     '  From  a  modern  point  of  view,  railways 

104 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

are,  no  doubt,  things  more  to  he  proud  of  than  castles,' 
he  said ;  '  though  perhaps  I  m3'self,  from  mere  associa- 
tion, should  decide  in  favour  of  the  ancestor  who  built 
the  castle.'  The  serious  anxiety  to  be  truthful  that 
.Somerset  threw  into  his  observation,  was  more  than  the 
circumstance  required.  '  To  design  great  engineering 
works,'  he  added  musingly,  and  without  the  least  eye  to 
the  disparagement  of  her  parent,  '  requires  no  doubt  a 
leading  mind.  But  to  execute  them,  as  he  did,  requires, 
of  course,  only  a  following  mind.' 

His  reply  had  not  altogether  pleased  her ;  and  there 
was  a  distinct  reproach  conveyed  by  her  slight  move- 
ment towards  Mrs.  Goodman.  He  saw  it,  and  was 
grieved  that  he  should  have  spoken  so.  '  I  am  going 
to  walk  over  and  inspect  that  famous  tunnel  of  your 
father's,'  he  added  gently.  '  It  will  be  a  pleasant  study 
for  this  afternoon.' 

She  went  away.  '  I  am  no  man  of  the  world,'  he 
thought.  '  I  ought  to  have  praised  that  father  of  hers 
straight  off.  I  shall  not  vdn.  her  respect ;  much  less 
her  love ! ' 


A   LAODICEAN 


XII 

Somerset  did  not  forget  what  he  had  planned, 
and  when  lunch  was  over  he  walked  away  through 
the  trees.  The  tunnel  was  more  difficult  of  discovery 
than  he  had  anticipated,  and  it  was  only  after  consider- 
able winding  among  green  lanes,  whose  deep  ruts  were 
like  Canons  of  Colorado  in  miniature,  that  he  reached 
the  slope  in  the  distant  upland  where  the  tunnel  began. 
A  road  stretched  over  its  crest,  and  thence  along  one 
side  of  the  railway-cutting. 

He  there  unexpectedly  saw  standing  Miss  Power's 
carriage ;  and  on  drawing  nearer  he  found  it  to  contain 
Paula  herself.  Miss  De  Stancy,  and  Mrs.  Goodman. 

'  How  singular  ! '  exclaimed  Miss  De  Stancy  gaily. 

'  It  is  most  natural,'  said  Paula  instantly.  '  In  the 
morning  two  people  discuss  a  feature  in  the  landscape, 
and  in  the  afternoon  each  has  a  desire  to  see  it  from 
what  the  other  has  said  of  it.  Therefore  they  acciden- 
tally meet.' 

Now  Paula  had  distinctly  heard  Somerset  declare 
that  he  was  going  to  walk  there ;  how  then  could  she 
say  this  so  coolly?  It  was  with  a  pang  at  his  heart 
that  he  returned  to  his  old  thought  of  her  being 
possibly  a  finished  coquette  and  dissembler.  Wliatever 
she  might  be,  she  was  not  a  creature  starched  very 
stiffly  by  Puritanism. 

io6 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

Somerset  looked  down  on  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel. 
The  popular  commonplace  that  science,  steam,  and 
travel  must  always  be  unromantic  and  hideous,  was 
not  proven  at  this  spot.  On  either  slope  of  the  deep 
cutting,  green  with  long  grass,  grew  drooping  young 
trees  of  ash,  beech,  and  other  flexible  varieties,  their 
foliage  almost  concealing  the  actual  railway  which  ran 
along  the  bottom,  its  thin  steel  rails  gleaming  like 
silver  threads  in  the  depths.  The  vertical  front  of 
the  tunnel,  faced  with  brick  that  had  once  been  red, 
was  now  weather-stained,  lichened,  and  mossed  over 
in  harmonious  rusty-browns,  pearly  greys,  and  neutral 
greens,  at  the  very  base  appearing  a  little  blue-black 
spot  like  a  mouse-hole — the  tunnel's  mouth. 

The  carriage  was  drawn  up  quite  close  to  the  wood 
railing,  and  Paula  was  looking  down  at  the  same  time 
with  him ;  but  he  made  no  remark  to  her. 

Mrs.  Goodman  broke  the  silence  by  saying,  '  If  it 
were  not  a  railway  we  should  call  it  a  lovely  dell.' 

Somerset  agreed  with  her,  adding  that  it  was  so 
charming  that  he  felt  inclined  to  go  down. 

'  If  you  do,  perhaps  Miss  Power  will  order  you  up 
again,  as  a  trespasser,'  said  Charlotte  De  Stancy.  '  You 
are  one  of  the  largest  shareholders  in  the  railway,  are 
you  not,  Paula  ? ' 

Miss  Power  did  not  reply. 

'  I  suppose  as  the  road  is  partly  yours  you  might 
walk  all  the  way  to  London  along  the  rails,  if  you 
wished,  might  you  not,  dear  ? '  Charlotte  continued. 

Paula  smiled,  and  said,  '  No,  of  course  not.' 

Somerset,  feeling  himself  superfluous,  raised  his  hat 
to  his  companions  as  if  he  meant  not  to  see  them 
again  for  a  while,  and  began  to  descend  by  some  steps 
cut  in  the  earth;  Miss  De  Stancy  asked  Mrs.  Good- 
man to  accompany  her  to  a  barrow  over  the  top  of  the 
tunnel ;  and  tliey  left  the  carriage,  Paula  remaining  alone. 

Down  Somerset  plunged    through    the    long    grass, 

107 


A    LAODICEAN 

l)ushes,  late  summer  flowers,  moths,  and  caterpillars, 
vexed  with  himself  that  he  had  come  there,  since  Paula 
was  so  inscrutable,  and  humming  the  notes  of  some 
sonsf  he  did  not  know.  The  tunnel  that  had  seemed 
so  small  from  the  surface  was  a  vast  archway  when  he 
reached  its  mouth,  which  emitted,  as  a  contrast  to  the 
sultry  heat  on  the  slopes  of  the  cutting,  a  cool  breeze, 
that  had  travelled  a  mile  underground  from  the  other 
end.  Far  away  in  the  darkness  of  this  silent  sub- 
terranean corridor  he  could  see  that  other  end  as  a 
mere  speck  of  light. 

When  he  had  conscientiously  admired  the  construc- 
tion of  the  massive  archivault,  and  the  majesty  of  its 
nude  ungarnished  walls,  he  looked  up  the  slope  at  the 
carriage;  it  was  so  small  to  the  eye  that  it  might  have 
been  made  for  a  performance  by  canaries ;  Paula's  face 
being  still  smaller,  as  she  leaned  back  in  her  seat,  idly 
looking  down  at  him.  There  seemed  something  roguish 
in  her  attitude  of  criticism,  and  to  be  no  longer  the 
subject  of  her  contemplation  he  entered  the  tunnel  out 
of  her  sight. 

In  the  middle  of  the  speck  of  light  before  him 
iippeared  a  speck  of  black ;  and  then  a  shrill  whistle, 
dulled  by  millions  of  tons  of  earth,  reached  his  ears 
from  thence.  It  was  what  he  had  been  on  his  guard 
against  all  the  time, — a  passing  train  ;  and  instead  of 
taking  the  trouble  to  come  out  of  the  tunnel  he  stepped 
into  a  recess,  till  the  train  had  rattled  past,  and  vanished 
onward  round  a  curve. 

Somerset  still  remained  where  he  had  placed  himself, 
mentally  balancing  science  against  art,  the  grandeur  of 
this  fine  piece  of  construction  against  that  of  the  castle, 
and  thinking  whether  Paula's  father  had  not,  after  all, 
the  best  of  it,  when  all  at  once  he  saw  Paula's  form 
confronting  him  at  the  entrance  of  the  tunnel.  He 
instantly  went  forward  into  the  light ;  to  his  surprise  she 
was  as  pale  as  a  lily. 

io8 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

'  O,  Mr.  Somerset ! '  she  exclaimed.  '  You  ought 
not  to  frighten  me  so — indeed  you  ought  not !  The 
train  came  out  almost  as  soon  as  you  had  gone  in,  and 
as  you  did  not  return — an  accident  was  possible !  ' 

Somerset  at  once  perceived  that  he  had  been  to  blame 
in  not  thinking  of  this. 

'  Please  do  forgive  my  thoughtlessness  in  not  reflect- 
ing how  it  would  strike  you  ! '  he  pleaded.  '  I — I  see  I 
have  alarmed  you.' 

Her  alarm  was,  indeed,  much  greater  than  he  had 
at  first  thought :  she  trembled  so  much  that  she  was 
obliged  to  sit  down,  at  which  he  went  up  to  her  full  of 
solicitousness. 

'  You  ought  not  to  have  done  it !  '  she  said.  '  I 
naturally  thought — any  person  would ' 

Somerset,  perhaps  wisely,  said  nothing  at  this  out- 
burst ;  the  cause  of  her  vexation  was,  plainly  enough, 
his  perception  of  her  discomposure.  He  stood  looking 
in  another  direction,  till  in  a  few  moments  she  had  risen 
to  her  feet  again,  quite  calm. 

'  It  would  have  been  dreadful,'  she  said  with  faint 
gaiety,  as  the  colour  returned  to  her  face  ;  '  if  I  had  lost 
my  architect,  and  been  obliged  to  engage  Mr.  Havill 
without  an  alternative.' 

'  I  was  really  in  no  danger ;  but  of  course  I  ought  to 
have  considered,'  he  said. 

'  I  forgive  you,'  she  returned  good-naturedly.  '  I 
knew  there  was  no  great  danger  to  a  person  exercising 
ordinary  discretion ;  but  artists  and  thinlccrs  like  you 
are  indiscreet  for  a  moment  somiCtimes.  I  am  now  going 
up  again.      What  do  you  think  of  the  tunnel  ?  ' 

They  were  crossing  the  railway  to  ascend  by  the 
opposite  path,  Somerset  keeping  his  eye  on  the  interior 
of  the  tunnel  for  safety,  when  suddenly  there  arose  a 
noise  and  shriek  from  the  contrary  direction  behind  the 
trees.  Both  knew  in  a  moment  what  it  meant,  and  each 
seized  the  other  as  they  ruslied  off  the  permanent  way. 

109 


A   LAODICEAN 

The  ideas  _of  both  had  been  so  centred  on  the  tunnel  as 
the  source  of  danger,  that  the  probability  of  a  train  from 
the  opposite  quarter  had  been  forgotten.  It  rushed 
past  them,  causing  Paula's  dress,  hair,  and  ribbons  to 
flutter  violently,  and  blowing  up  the  fallen  leaves  in  a 
shower  over  their  shoulders. 

Neither  spoke,  and  they  went  up  several  steps, 
holding  each  other  by  the  hand,  till,  becoming  conscious 
of  the  fact,  she  withdrew  hers ;  whereupon  Somerset 
stopped  and  looked  earnestly  at  her ;  but  her  eyes  were 
averted  towards  the  tunnel  wall. 

'  What  an  escape  ! '  he  said. 

'  We  were  not  so  very  near,  I  think,  were  we  ? '  she 
asked  quickly.  '  If  we  were,  I  think  you  were — very 
good  to  take  my  hand.' 

They  reached  the  top  at  last,  and  the  new  level  and 
open  air  seemed  to  give  her  a  new  mind.  *  I  don't  see 
the  carriage  anywhere,'  she  said,  in  the  common  tones 
of  civilization. 

He  thought  it  had  gone  over  the  crest  of  the  hill ; 
he  would  accompany  her  till  they  reached  it. 

'  No — please — I  would  rather  not — I  can  find 
it  very  well.'  Before  he  could  say  more  she  had 
inclined  her  head  and  smiled  and  was  on  her  way 
alone. 

The  tunnel-cutting  appeared  a  dreary  gulf  enough 
now  to  the  young  man,  as  he  stood  leaning  over  the 
rails  above  it,  beating  the  herbage  with  his  stick.  For 
some  minutes  he  could  not  criticize  or  weisfh  her  con- 
duct;  the  warmth  of  her  presence  still  encircled  him. 
He  recalled  her  face  as  it  had  looked  out  at  him  from 
under  the  white  silk  puffing  of  her  black  hat,  and  the 
speaking  power  of  her  eyes  at  the  moment  of  danger. 
The  breadth  of  that  clear-complexioned  forehead — almost 
concealed  by  the  masses  of  brown  hair  bundled  up 
around  it — signified  that  if  her  disposition  were  oblique 
and  insincere  enough  for  trifling,  coquetting,  or  in  any 

I  lO 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

way  making  a  fool  of  him,  she  had  the  intellect  to  do  it 
cruelly  well. 

But  it  was  ungenerous  to  ruminate  so  suspiciously. 
A  girl  not  an  actress  by  profession  could  hardly  turn 
pale  artificially  as  she  had  done,  though  perhaps  mere 
fright  meant  nothing,  and  would  have  arisen  in  her  just 
as  readily  had  he  been  one  of  the  labourers  on  her 
estate. 

The  reflection  that  such  feeling  as  she  had  exhibited 
could  have  no  tender  meaning  returned  upon  him  with 
masterful  force  when  he  thought  of  her  wealth  and  the 
social  position  into  which  she  had  drifted.  Somerset, 
being  of  a  solitary  and  studious  nature,  v/as  not  quite 
competent  to  estimate  precisely  the  disqualifying  effect, 
if  any,  of  her  nonconformity,  her  newness  of  blood,  and 
other  things,  among  the  old  county  families  established 
round  her;  but  the  toughest  prejudices,  he  thought, 
were  not  likely  to  be  long  invulnerable  to  such  cheerful 
beauty  and  brightness  of  intellect  as  Paula's,  ^^"hen 
she  emerged,  as  she  was  plainly  about  to  do,  from  the 
seclusion  in  which  she  had  been  living  since  her  father's 
death,  she  would  inevitably  win  her  way  among  her 
neighbours.  She  would  become  the  local  topic. 
Fortune-hunters  would  learn  of  her  existence  and  draw 
near  in  shoals.  What  chance  would  there  then  be 
for  him  ? 

The  points  in  his  favour  were  indeed  few,  but  they 
were  just  enough  to  keep  a  tantalizing  hope  alive. 
Modestly  leaving  out  of  count  his  personal  and  intel- 
lectual qualifications,  he  thought  of  his  family.  It  was 
an  old  stock  enough,  though  not  a  rich  one.  His 
ureat-uncle  had  been  the  well-known  Vice-admiral  Sir 
Armstrong  Somerset,  who  served  his  country  well  in  the 
Baltic,  the  Indies,  China,  and  the  Caribbean  Sea.  His 
grandfather  had  been  a  notable  metaphysician.  His 
father,  the  Royal  Academician,  was  poT)ular.  But 
perhaps   this   was  not   the   sort   of  reasoning   likely  to 

I J I 


A   LAODICEAN 

occupy  the  mind  of  a  young  woman ;  the  personal 
aspect  of  the  situation  was  in  such  circumstances  of  far 
more  import.  He  had  come  as  a  wandering  stranger — 
that  possibly  lent  some  interest  to  him  in  her  eyes. 
He  was  installed  in  an  office  which  would  necessitate 
free  communion  with  her  for  some  time  to  come ;  that 
was  another  advantage,  and  would  be  a  still  greater  one 
if  slie  showed,  as  Paula  seemed  disposed  to  do,  such 
artistic  sympathy  with  his  work  as  to  follow  up  with 
interest  the  details  of  its  progress. 

The  carriage  did  not  reappear,  and  he  went  on 
towards  Markton,  disinclined  to  return  again  that  day 
to  the  studio  which  had  been  prepared  for  him  at  the 
castle.  He  heard  feet  brushing  the  grass  behind  him, 
and,  looking  round,  saw  the  Baptist  minister. 

'  I  have  just  come  from  the  village,'  said  Mr. 
Woodwell,  who  looked  worn  and  weary,  his  boots  being 
covered  with  dust ;  '  and  I  have  learnt  that  which  con- 
firms my  fears  for  her.' 

'  For  Miss  Power  ?  ' 

'  Most  assuredly.' 

'  What  danger  is  there  ?  '  said  Somerset. 

'  The  temptations  of  her  position  have  become  too 
much  for  her !  She  is  going  out  of  mourning  next 
week,  and  will  give  a  large  dinner-party  on  the  occasion ; 
for  though  the  invitations  are  partly  in  the  name  of  her 
relative  Mrs.  Goodman,  they  must  come  from  her.  The 
guests  are  to  include  people  of  old  cavalier  families  who 
would  have  treated  her  grandfather,  sir,  and  even  her 
father,  with  scorn  for  their  religion  and  connections ; 
also  the  parson  and  curate — yes,  actually  people  who 
believe  in  the  Apostolic  Succession ;  and  what's  more, 
they're  coming.  My  opinion  is,  that  it  has  all  arisen 
from  her  friendship  with  Miss  De  Stancy.' 

'  Well,'  cried  Somerset  warmly,  '  this  only  shows 
liberality  of  feeling  on  both  sides !  I  suppose  she  has 
invited  you  as  well  ?  ' 

112 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

'  She  has  not  invited  me !  .  .  .  Mr.  Somerset,  not- 
withstanding your  erroneous  opinions  on  important 
matters,  I  speak  to  you  as  a  friend,  and  I  tell  you  that 
she  has  never  in  her  secret  heart  forgiven  that  sermon 
of  mine,  in  which  I  likened  her  to  the  church  at 
Laodicea.  I  admit  the  words  were  harsh,  but  I  was 
doing  my  duty,  and  if  the  case  arose  to-morrow  I  would 
do  it  again.  Her  displeasure  is  a  deep  grief  to  me; 
but  I  serve  One  greater  than  she.  .  .  .  You,  of  course, 
are  invited  to  this  dinner  ?  ' 

'  I  have  heard  nothing  of  it,'  murmured  the  young 
man. 

Their  paths  diverged ;  and  when  Somerset  reached 
the  hotel  he  was  informed  that  somebody  was  waiting 
to  see  him. 

'  Man  or  woman  ?  '  he  asked. 

The  landlady,  who  always  liked  to  reply  in  person  to 
Somerset's  inquiries,  apparently  thinking  him,  by  virtue 
of  his  drawing  implements  and  liberality  of  payment, 
a  possible  lord  of  Burleigh,  came  forward  and  said  it 
was  certainly  not  a  woman,  but  whether  man  or  boy 
she  could  not  say.  '  His  name  is  Mr.  Dare,'  she 
added. 

'  O — that  youth,'  he  said. 

Somerset  went  upstairs,  along  the  passage,  down  two 
steps,  round  the  angle,  and  so  on  to  the  rooms  reserved 
for  him  in  this  rambling  edifice  of  stage-coach  memories, 
where  he  found  Dare  waiting.  Dare  came  forward, 
pulling  out  the  cutting  of  an  advertisement. 

'  Mr.  Somerset,  this  is  yours,  I  believe,  from  the 
Architectural  World  V 

Somerset  said  that  he  had  inserted  it. 

'  I  think  I  should  suit  your  purpose  as  assistant  very 
well.' 

'  Are  you  an  architect's  draughtsman  ?  ' 

'  Not  specially.  I  have  some  knowledge  of  the  same, 
and  want  to  increase  it.' 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  I  thought  you  were  a  photographer.* 

'  Also  of  photography,'  said  Dare  with  a  bow. 
'  Though  but  an  amateur  in  that  art  I  can  challenge 
comparison  with  Regent  Street  or  Broadway.' 

Somerset  looked  upon  his  table.  Two  letters  only, 
addressed  in  initials,  were  lying  there  as  answers  to  his 
advertisement.  He  asked  Dare  to  wait,  and  looked  them 
over.  Neither  was  satisfactory.  On  this  account  he 
overcame  his  slight  feeling  against  Mr.  Dare,  and  put 
a  question  to  test  that  gentleman's  capacities.  '  How 
would  you  measure  the  front  of  a  building,  including 
windows,  doors,  mouldings,  and  every  other  feature,  for 
a  ground  plan,  so  as  to  combine  the  greatest  accuracy 
with  the  greatest  despatch  ?  ' 

'  In  running  dimensions,'  said  Dare. 

As  this  was  the  particular  kind  of  work  he  wanted 
done,  Somerset  thought  the  answer  promising.  Coming 
to  terms  with  Dare,  he  requested  the  would-be  student 
of  architecture  to  wait  at  the  castle  the  next  day,  and 
dismissed  him. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  when  Dare  was  taking  a 
walk  in  the  country,  he  drew  from  his  pocket  eight  other 
letters  addressed  to  Somerset  in  initials,  which,  to  judge 
by  their  style  and  stationery,  were  from  men  far  superior 
to  those  two  whose  communications  alone  Somerset  had 
seen.  Dare  looked  them  over  for  a  few  seconds  as  he 
strolled  on,  then  tore  them  into  minute  fragments,  and, 
burying  them  under  the  leaves  in  the  ditch,  went  on  his 
way  again. 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 


XIII 

1  HOUGH  exhibiting  indifierence,  Somerset  had  felt 
a  pang  of  disappointment  when  he  heard  the  news  of 
Paula's  approaching  dinner-party.  It  seemed  a  httle 
unkind  of  her  to  pass  him  over,  seeing  how  much  they 
were  thrown  together  just  now.  That  dinner  meant 
more  than  it  sounded.  Notwithstanding  the  roominess 
of  her  castle,  she  was  at  present  living  somewhat  incom- 
modiously, owing  partly  to  the  stagnation  caused  by  her 
recent  bereavement,  and  partly  to  the  necessity  for  over- 
hauling the  De  Stancy  lumber  piled  in  those  vast  and 
gloomy  chambers  before  they  could  be  made  tolerable  to 
nineteenth-century  fastidiousness. 

To  give  dinners  on  any  large  scale  before  Somerset 
had  at  least  set  a  few  of  these  rooms  in  order  for  her, 
showed,  to  his  thinking,  an  overpowering  desire  for 
society. 

During  the  week  he  saw  less  of  her  than  usual,  her 
time  being  to  all  appearance  much  taken  up  with  driving 
out  to  make  calls  on  her  neighbours  and  receiving  return 
visits.  All  this  he  observed  from  the  windows  of  his 
studio  overlooking  the  castle  ward,  in  which  room  he  now 
spent  a  great  deal  of  his  time,  bending  over  drawing- 
boards  and  instructing  Dare,  who  worked  as  well  as 
could  be  expected  of  a  youth  of  such  varied  attainments. 

Nearer  came  the  Wednesday  of  the  party,  and  no 

"5 


A   LAODICEAN 

hint  of  that  event  reached  Somerset,  but  such  as  had 
been  communicated  by  the  Baptist  minister.  At  last, 
on  the  very  afternoon,  an  invitation  was  handed  into  his 
studio — not  a  kind  note  in  Paula's  handwriting,  but  a 
formal  printed  card  in  the  joint  names  of  Mrs.  Good- 
man and  Miss  Power.  It  reached  him  just  four  hours 
before  the  dinner-time.  He  was  plainly  to  be  used  as  a 
stop-gap  at  the  last  moment  because  somebody  could 
not  come. 

Having  previously  arranged  to  pass  a  quiet  evening 
in  his  rooms  at  the  Lord  Quantock  Arms,  in  reading  up 
chronicles  of  the  castle  from  the  county  history,  with  the 
view  of  gathering  some  ideas  as  to  the  distribution  of 
rooms  therein  before  the  demolition  of  a  portion  of  the 
structure,  he  decided  off-hand  that  Paula's  dinner  was 
not  of  sufficient  importance  to  him  as  a  professional  man 
and  student  of  art  to  justify  a  waste  of  the  evening  by 
going.  He  accordingly  declined  Mrs.  Goodman's  and 
Miss  Power's  invitation;  and  at  five  o'clock  left  the 
castle  and  walked  across  the  fields  to  the  little  town. 

He  dined  early,  and,  clearing  away  heaviness  with 
a  cup  of  coffee,  applied  himself  to  that  volume  of  the 
county  history  which  contained  the  record  of  Stancy 
Castle. 

Here  he  read  that  '  when  this  picturesque  and 
ancient  structure  was  founded,  or  by  whom,  is  extremely 
uncertain.  But  that  a  castle  stood  on  the  site  in  very 
early  times  appears  from  many  old  books  of  charters. 
In  its  prime  it  was  such  a  masterpiece  of  fortification 
as  to  be  the  wonder  of  the  world,  and  it  was  thought, 
before  the  invention  of  gunpowder,  that  it  never  could 
be  taken  by  any  force  less  than  divine.' 

He  read  on  to  the  times  when  it  first  passed  into 
the  hands  of  '  De  Stancy,  Chivaler,'  and  received  the 
family  name,  and  so  on  from  De  Stancy  to  De  Stancy 
till  he  was  lost  in  the  reflection  whether  Paula  would  or 
would  not  have  thought   more  highly  of  him  if  he  had 

1 1 6 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

accepted  the  invitation  to  dinner.  Applying  himself 
again  to  the  tome,  he  learned  that  in  the  year  1504 
Stephen  the  carpenter  was  'paid  eleven  pence  for 
necessarye  repayrs,'  and  WiUiam  the  mastermason  eight 
shillings  '  for  whyt  lyming  of  the  kitchen,  and  the  lyme 
to  do  it  with,'  including  '  a  new  rope  for  the  fyer  bell ; ' 
also  the  sundry  charges  for  '  vij  crockes,  xiij  lytyll  pans, 
a  pare  of  pot  hookes,  a  fyer  pane,  a  lanterne,  a  chafynge 
dyshe,  and  xij  candyll  stychs.' 

Bang  went  eight  strokes  of  the  clock :  it  was  the 
dinner-hour. 

'  There,  rrow  I  can't  go,  anyhow ! '  he  said  bitterly, 
jumping  up,  and  picturing  her  receiving  her  company. 
How  would  she  look;  what  would  she  wear?  Pro- 
foundly indifferent  to  the  early  history  of  the  noble 
fabric,  he  felt  a  violent  reaction  towards  modernism, 
eclecticism,  new  aristocracies,  everything,  in  short,  that 
Paula  represented.  He  even  gave  himself  up  to  con- 
sider the  Greek  court  that  she  had  wished  for,  and 
passed  the  remainder  of  the  evening  in  making  a  per- 
spective view  of  the  same. 

The  next  morning  he  awoke  early,  and,  resolving  to 
be  at  work  betimes,  started  promptly.  It  was  a  fine 
calm  hour  of  day;  the  grass  slopes  were  silvery  with 
excess  of  dew,  and  the  blue  mists  hung  in  the  depths  of 
each  tree  for  want  of  wind  to  blow  them  out.  Somerset 
entered  the  drive  on  foot,  and  when  near  the  castle  he 
observed  in  the  gravel  the  wheel-marks  of  the  carriages 
that  had  conveyed  the  guests  thither  the  night  before. 
There  seemed  to  have  been  a  large  number,  for  the  road 
where  newly  repairejl  was  quite  cut  up.  Before  going 
indoors  he  was  tempted  to  walk  round  to  the  wing  in 
which  Paula  slept. 

Rooks  were  cawing,  sparrows  were  chattering  there; 
but  the  blind  of  her  window  was  as  closely  drawn  as 
if  it  were  midnight.  Probably  she  was  sound  asleep, 
dreaming  of  the  compliments  which  had  been  paid  her 

117 


A   LAODICEAN 

by  her  guests,  and  of  the  future  triumphant  pleasures 
that  would  follow  in  their  train.  Reaching  the  outer 
stone  stairs  leading  to  the  great  hall  he  found  them 
shadowed  by  an  awning  brilliantly  striped  with  red  and 
blue,  within  which  rows  of  flowering  plants  in  pots 
bordered  the  pathway.  She  could  not  have  made  more 
preparation  had  the  gathering  been  a  ball.  He  passed 
along  the  gallery  in  which  his  studio  was  situated, 
entered  the  room,  and  seized  a  drawing-board  to  put 
into  correct  drawing  the  sketch  for  the  Greek  court  that 
he  had  struck  out  the  night  before,  thereby  abandoning 
his  art  principles  to  please  the  whim  of  a  girl.  Dare 
had  not  yet  arrived,  and  after  a  time  Somerset  threw 
down  his  pencil  and  leant  back. 

His  eye  fell  upon  something  that  moved.  It  was 
white,  and  lay  in  the  folding  chair  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  room.  On  near  approach  he  found  it  to  be  a 
fragment  of  swan's-down  fanned  into  motion  by  his  own 
movements,  and  partially  squeezed  into  tlie  chink  of  the 
chair  as  though  by  some  person  sitting  on  it. 

None  but  a  woman  would  have  worn  or  brought  that 
swan's-down  into  his  studio,  and  it  made  him  reflect  on 
the  possible  one.  Nothing  interrupted  his  conjectures 
till  ten  o'clock,  when  Dare  came.  Then  one  of  the 
servants  tapped  at  the  door  to  know  if  Mr.  Somerset 
had  arrived.  Somerset  asked  if  Miss  Power  wished  to 
see  him,  and  was  informed  that  she  had  only  wished  to 
know  if  he  had  come.  Somerset  sent  a  return  message 
that  he  had  a  design  on  the  board  which  he  should  soon 
be  glad  to  submit  to  her,  and  the  messenger  departed. 

'  Fine  doings  here  last  night,  sir,'  said  Dare,  as  he 
dusted  his  T-square. 

'  O  indeed  ! ' 

'  A  dinner-party,  I  hear ;  eighteen  guests.' 

'  Ah,'  said  Somerset. 

'  The  young  lady  was  magnificent — sapphires  and 
opals — she  carried  as  much  as  a  thousand  pounds  upon 

ii8 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

her  head  and  shoulders  during  that  three  or  four  hours. 
Of  course  they  call  her  charming ;  Compuesta  no  hay 
1/itigerfea,  as  they  say  at  Madrid.' 

'  I  don't  doubt  it  for  a  moment,'  said  Somerset,  with 
reserve. 

Dare  said  no  more,  and  presently  the  door  opened, 
and  there  stood  Paula. 

Somerset  nodded  to  Dare  to  withdraw  into  an  adjoin- 
ing room,  and  offered  her  a  chair. 

'  You  wish  to  show  me  the  design  you  have  pre- 
pared ? '  she  asked,  without  taking  the  seat. 

'  Yes ;  I  have  come  round  to  your  opinion.  I  have 
made  a  plan  for  the  Greek  court  you  were  anxious  to 
build.'  And  he  elevated  the  drawing-board  against  the 
wall. 

She  regarded  it  attentively  for  some  moments,  her 
finger  resting  lightly  against  her  chin,  and  said,  '  I  have 
given  up  the  idea  of  a  Greek  court.' 

He  showed  his  astonishment,  and  was  almost  dis- 
appointed. He  had  been  grinding  up  Greek  archi- 
tecture entirely  on  her  account ;  had  wrenched  his  mind 
round  to  this  strange  arrangement,  all  for  nothing. 

'  Yes,'  she  continued  ;  '  on  reconsideration  I  perceive 
the  want  of  harmony  that  would  result  from  inserting 
such  a  piece  of  marble-work  in  a  mediceval  fortress ;  so 
in  future  we  will  lim.it  ourselves  strictly  to  synchronism 
of  style — that  is  to  say,  make  good  the  Norman 
work  by  Norman,  the  Perpendicular  by  Perpendicular, 
and  so  on.  I  have  informed  Mr.  Havill  of  the  same 
thing.' 

Somerset  pulled  the  Greek  drawing  off  the  board, 
and  tore  it  in  two  pieces. 

She  involuntarily  turned  to  look  in  his  face,  but 
stopped  before  she  had  quite  lifted  her  eyes  high 
enough.  '  Why  did  you  do  that  ? '  she  asked  with 
suave  curiosity. 

'  It  is  of  no  further  use,'  said  Somerset,  tearing  the 

119 


A   LAODICEAN 

drawing  in  the  other  direction,  and  throwing  the  pieces 
into  the  fireplace.  'You  have  been  reading  up  orders 
and  styles  to  some  purpose,  I  perceive.'  He  regarded 
her  with  a  faint  smile. 

*  I  have  had  a  few  books  down  from  town.  It  is 
desirable  to  know  a  little  about  the  architecture  of  one's 
own  house.' 

She  remained  looking  at  the  torn  drawing,  when 
Somerset,  observing  on  the  table  the  particle  of"  swan's- 
down  he  had  found  in  the  chair,  gently  blew  it  so  that 
it  skimmed  across  the  table  under  her  eyes. 

'  It  looks  as  if  it  came  off  a  lady's  dress,'  he  said  idly. 

'  Off  a  lady's  fan,'  she  replied. 

'  O,  off  a  fan  ?  ' 

'  Yes  ;  off  mine.' 

At  her  reply  Somerset  stretched  out  his  hand  for  the 
swan's-down,  and  put  it  carefully  in  his  pocket-book; 
whereupon  Paula,  moulding  her  cherry-red  lower  lip 
beneath  her  upper  one  in  arch  self-consciousness  at  his 
act,  turned  away  to  the  window,  and  after  a  pause  said 
softly  as  she  looked  out,  '  Why  did  you  not  accept  our 
invitation  to  dinner  ?  ' 

It  was  impossible  to  explain  why.  He  impulsively 
drew  near  and  confronted  her,  and  said,  '  I  hope  you 
pardon  me  ? ' 

'  I  dont  know  that  I  can  quite  do  that,'  answered 
she,  with  ever  so  little  reproach.  '  I  know  why  you  did 
not  come — you  were  mortified  at  not  being  asked  sooner! 
But  it  was  purely  by  an  accident  that  you  received  your 
invitation  so  late.  My  aunt  sent  the  others  by  post,  but 
as  yours  was  to  be  delivered  by  hand  it  was  left  on  her 
table,  and  was  overlooked.' 

Surely  he  could  not  doubt  her  words;  those  nice 
friendly  accents  were  the  embodiment  of  truth  itself. 

'  I  don't  mean  to  make  a  serious  complaint,'  she 
added,  in  injured  tones,  showng  that  she  did.  '  Only 
we  had  asked  nearly  all  of  them  to  meet  you,  as  the 

1 20 


GEORGE    SOMERSET 

son  of  your  illustrious  father,  whom  many  of  my  friends 
know  personally ;  and — they  were  disappointed.' 

It  was  now  time  for  Somerset  to  be  genuinely  grieved 
at  what  he  had  done.  Paula  seemed  so  good  and 
honourable  at  that  moment  that  he  eould  have  laid 
down  his  life  for  her. 

'  When  I  was  dressed,  I  came  in  here  to  ask  you  to 
reconsider  your  decision,'  she  continued  ;  '  or  to  meet 
us  in  the  drawing-room  if  you  could  not  possibly  be 
ready  for  dinner.     But  you  were  gone.' 

'  And  you  sat  down  in  that  chair,  didn't  you,  darling, 
and  remained  there  a  long  time  musing ! '  he  thought. 
But  that  he  did  not  say. 

'  I  am  very  sorry,'  he  murmured. 

'  Will  you  make  amends  by  coming  to  our  garden- 
party?     I  ask  you  the  very  first.' 

'  I  will,'  replied  Somerset.  To  add  that  it  would 
give  him  great  pleasure,  etc.,  seemed  an  absurdly  weak 
way  of  expressing  his  feelings,  and  he  said  no  more. 

'  It  is  on  the  nineteenth.     Don't  forget  the  day.' 

He  met  her  eyes  in  such  a  way  that,  if  she  were 
woman,  she  must  have  seen  it  to  mean  as  plainly  as 
words  :  '  Do  I  look  as  if  I  could  forget  anything  you 
say?' 

She  must,  indeed,  have  understood  much  more  by 
this  time — the  whole  of  his  open  secret.  But  he  did 
not  understand  her.  History  has  revealed  that  a  super- 
numerary lover  or  two  is  rarely  considered  a  disadvan- 
tage by  a  woman,  from  queen  to  cottage-girl ;  and  the 
thought  made  him  pause. 


A   LAODICEAN 


XIV 

When  she  was  gone  he  went  on  with  the  drawing, 
not  caUing  in  Dare,  who  remained  in  the  room  adjoin- 
ing. Presently  a  servant  came  and  laid  a  paper  on  his 
table,  which  INIiss  Power  had  sent.  It  was  one  of  the 
morning  newspapers,  and  was  folded  so  that  his  eye 
fell  immediately  on  a  letter  headed  '  Restoration  or 
Demolition.' 

The  letter  was  professedly  written  by  a  dispassionate 
person  solely  in  the  interests  of  art.  It  drew  attention 
to  the  circumstance  that  the  ancient  and  interesting 
castle  of  the  De  Stancys  had  unhappily  passed  into  the 
hands  of  an  iconoclast  by  blood,  who,  without  respect 
for  the  tradition  of  the  county,  or  any  feeling  whatever 
for  history  in  stone,  was  about  to  demoUsh  much,  if  not 
all,  that  was  interesting  in  that  ancient  pile,  and  insert 
in  its  midst  a  monstrous  travesty  of  some  Greek  temple. 
In  the  name  of  all  lovers  of  mediaeval  art,  conjured  the 
simple-minded  writer,  let  something  be  done  to  save  a 
building  which,  injured  and  battered  in  the  Civil  Wars, 
was  now  to  be  made  a  complete  ruin  by  the  freaks  of 
an  irresponsible  owner. 

Her  sending  him  the  paper  seemed  to  imply  that 
she  required  his  opinion  on  the  case ;  and  in  the  after- 
noon, leaving  Dare  to  measure  up  a  wing  according  to 
directions,  he  went  out    in  the  hope  of   meeting  her, 

12  2 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

having  learnt  that  she  had  gone  to  the  village.  On 
reaching  the  church  he  saw  her  crossing  the  churchyard 
path  with  her  aunt  and  Miss  De  Stancy.  Somerset 
entered  the  enclosure,  and  as  soon  as  she  saw  him  she 
came  across. 

'  What  is  to  be  done  ?  '  she  asked. 

'  You  need  not  be  concerned  about  such  a  letter  as 
that.' 

'  I  am  concerned.' 

'  I  think  it  dreadful  impertinence,'  spoke  up  Char- 
lotte, who  had  joined  them.  '  Can  you  think  who 
wrote  it,  Mr.  Somerset  ?  ' 

Somerset  could  not. 

'  Well,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  '  repeated  Paula. 

'Just  as  you  would  have  done  before.' 

'  That's  what  /  say,'  observed  Mrs.  Goodman  em- 
phatically. 

'  But  I  have  already  altered — I  have  given  up  the 
Greek  court.' 

'  O — you  had  seen  the  paper  this  morning  before 
you  looked  at  my  drawing  ?  ' 

'  I  had,'  she  answered. 

Somerset  thought  it  a  forcible  illustration  of  her 
natural  reticence  that  she  should  have  abandoned  the 
design  without  telling  him  the  reason ;  but  he  was  gLad 
she  had  not  done  it  from  mere  caprice. 

She  turned  to  him  and  said  quietly,  '  I  wish  ycm 
would  answer  that  letter.' 

'  It  would  be  ill-advised,'  said  Somerset.  '  Still,  if, 
after  consideration,  you  wish  it  much,  I  will.  Mean- 
while let  me  impress  upon  you  again  the  expediency 
of  calling  in  Mr.  Havill — to  whom,  as  your  father's 
architect,  expecting  this  commission,  something  perhaps 
is  owed — and  getting  him  to  furnish  an  alternative  plan 
to  mine,  and  submitting  the  choice  of  designs  to  some 
members  of  the  Royal  Institute  of  British  Architects. 
This  letter  makes  it  still  more  advisable  than  before,' 

123 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  Very  well,'  said  Paula  reluctantly. 

'  Let  him  have  all  the  particulars  you  have  been  good 
enough  to  explain  to  me — so  that  we  start  fair  in  the 
competition.' 

She  looked  negligently  on  the  grass.  '  I  will  tell 
the  building  steward  to  write  them  out  for  him,'  she 
said. 

The  party  separated  and  entered  the  church  by 
different  doors.  Somerset  went  to  a  nook  of  the 
building  that  he  had  often  intended  to  visit.  It  was 
called  the  Stancy  aisle;  and  in  it  stood  the  tombs  of 
that  family.  Somerset  examined  them :  they  were 
unusually  rich  and  numerous,  beginning  with  cross- 
legged  knights  in  hauberks  of  chain-mail,  their  ladies 
beside  them  in  wimple  and  cover-chief,  all  more  or  less 
coated  with  the  green  mould  and  dirt  of  ages  :  and 
continuing  with  others  of  later  date,  in  fine  alabaster, 
gilded  and  coloured,  some  of  them  wearing  round  their 
necks  the  Yorkist  collar  of  suns  and  roses,  the  livery  of 
Edward  the  Fourth.  In  scrutinizing  the  tallest  canopy 
over  these  he  beheld  Paula  behind  it,  as  if  in  con- 
templation of  the  same  objects. 

'  You  came  to  the  church  to  sketch  these  monuments, 
I  suppose,  Mr.  Somerset  ? '  she  asked,  as  soon  as  she 
saw  him. 

'  No.     I  came  to  speak  to  you  about  the  letter.' 

She  sighed.  '  Yes  :  that  letter,'  she  said.  '  I  am 
persecuted  !  If  I  had  been  one  of  these  it  would  never 
have  been  written.'  She  tapped  the  alabaster  effigy  of 
a  recumbent  lady  with  her  parasol. 

'  They  are  interesting,  are  they  not  ?  '  he  said.  '  She 
is  beautifully  preserved.  The  gilding  is  nearly  gone, 
but  beyond  that  she  is  perfect.' 

'  She  is  like  Charlotte,'  said  Paula.  And  what  was 
much  like  another  sigh  escaped  her  lips. 

Somerset  admitted  that  there  was  a  resemblance, 
while  Paula  drew  her  forefinger  across  the  marble  face 

1-4 


GEORGE    SOMERSET 

of  the  effigy,  and  at  length  took  out  her  handkerchief, 
and  began  wiping  the  dust  from  the  hollows  of  the 
features.  He  looked  on,  wondering  what  her  sigh  had 
meant,  but  guessing  that  it  had  been  somehow  caused 
by  the  sight  of  these  sculptures  in  connection  with  the 
newspaper  writer's  denunciation  of  her  as  an  irresponsible 
outsider. 

The  secret  was  out  when  in  answer  to  his  question, 
idly  put,  if  she  wished  she  were  like  one  of  these, 
she  said,  with  exceptional  vehemence  for  one  of  her 
demeanour — 

'  I  don't  wish  I  was  like  one  of  them  :  I  wish  I  was 
one  of  them.' 

'  What — you  wish  you  were  a  De  Stancy  ?  ' 

'Yes.  It  is  very  dreadful  to  be  denounced  as  a 
barbarian.     I  want  to  be  romantic  and  historical.' 

'  Miss  De  Stancy  seems  not  to  value  the  privilege,'  he 
said,  looking  round  at  another  part  of  the  church  where 
Charlotte  was  innocently  prattling  to  Mrs.  Goodman, 
(juite  heedless  of  the  tombs  of  her  forefathers. 

'  If  I  were  one,'  she  continued,  '  I  should  come  here 
when  I  feel  alone  in  the  world,  as  I  do  to-day ;  and  I 
would  defy  people,  and  say,  "'You  cannot  spoil  what 
has  been  !  "  ' 

They  walked  on  till  they  reached  the  old  black  pew 
attached  to  the  castle — a  vast  square  enclosure  of  oak 
panelling  occupying  half  the  aisle,  and  surmounted  with 
a  little  balustrade  above  the  framework.  \\"ithin,  the 
baize  lining  that  had  once  been  green,  now  faded  to  the 
colour  of  a  common  in  August,  was  torn,  kicked  and 
scraped  to  rags  by  the  feet  and  hands  of  the  ploughboys 
who  had  appropriated  the  pew  as  their  own  special 
place  of  worship  since  it  had  ceased  to  be  used  by  any 
resident  at  the  castle,  because  its  height  afforded  con- 
venient shelter  for  playing  at  marbles  and  j)ric-king  with 
pins. 

Charlotte  and  Mrs.  Goodman  had  l)y  this  time  left 

125 


A   LAODICEAN 

the  building,  and  could  be  seen  looking  at  the  head- 
stones outside. 

'  If  you  were  a  De  Stancy,'  said  Somerset,  who  had 
pondered  more  deeply  upon  that  new  wish  of  hers  than 
he  had  seemed  to  do,  '  you  would  be  a  churchwoman, 
and  sit  here.' 

'  And  I  should  have  the  pew  done  up,'  she  said 
readily,  as  she  rested  her  pretty  chin  on  the  top  rail 
and  looked  at  the  interior,  her  cheeks  pressed  into  deep 
dimples.  Her  quick  reply  told  him  that  the  idea  was 
no  new  one  with  her,  and  he  thought  of  poor  Mr. 
Woodwell's  shrewd  prophecy  as  he  perceived  that  her 
days  as  a  separatist  were  numbered. 

'  Well,  why  can't  you  have  it  done  up,  and  sit  here  ? ' 
he  said  warily. 

Paula  shook  her  head. 

'  You  are  not  at  enmity  with  Anglicanism,  I  am  sure  ?  ' 

'I  want  not  to  be.     I  want  to  be — what ' 

'  What  the  De  Stancys  were,  and  are,'  he  said 
insidiously;  and  her  silenced  bearing  told  him  that  he 
had  hit  the  nail. 

It  was  a  strange  idea  to  get  possession  of  such  a 
nature  as  hers,  and  for  a  minute  he  felt  himself  on  the 
side  of  the  minister.  So  strong  was  Somerset's  feeling 
of  wishing  her  to  show  the  quality  of  fidelity  to  paternal 
dogma  and  party,  that  he  could  not  help  adding— 

'  But  have  you  forgotten  that  other  nobility — the 
nobility  of  talent  and  enterprise  ?  ' 

'  No.  But  I  wish  I  had  a  well-known  line  of 
ancestors.' 

'  You  have.  Archimedes,  Newcomen,  Watt,  Telford, 
Stephenson,  those  are  your  father's  direct  ancestors. 
Have  you  forgotten  them  ?  Have  you  forgotten  your 
father,  and  the  railways  he  made  over  half  Europe,  and 
his  great  energy  and  skill,  and  all  connected  with  him 
as  if  he  had  never  lived  ?  ' 

She  did  not  answer  for  some  time.     '  No,  I  have  not 

126 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

forgotten  it,'  she  said,  still  looking  into  the  pew.  '  But, 
I  have  a  predilection  d'artisie  for  ancestors  of  the  other 
sort,  like  the  De  Stancys.' 

Her  hand  was  resting  on  the  low  pew  next  the  high 
one  of  the  De  Stancys.  Somerset  looked  at  the  hand, 
or  rather  at  the  glove  which  covered  it,  then  at  her 
averted  cheek,  then  beyond  it  into  the  pew,  then  at  her 
hand  again,  until  by  an  indescribable  consciousness  that 
he  was  not  going  too  far  he  laid  his  own  upon  it. 

'  No,  no,'  said  Paula  quickly,  withdrawing  her  hand. 
But  there  was  nothing  resentful  or  haughty  in  her  tone 
— nothing,  in  short,  which  makes  a  man  in  such  cir- 
cumstances feel  that  he  has  done  a  particularly  foolish 
action. 

The  flower  on  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  somewhat 
more  than  usual  as  she  added,  '  I  am  going  away  now 
— I  will  leave  you  here.'  Without  waiting  for  a  reply 
she  adroitly  swept  back  her  skirts  to  free  her  feet  and 
went  out  of  the  church  blushing. 

Somerset  took  her  hint  and  did  not  follow ;  and 
when  he  knew  that  she  had  rejoined  her  friends,  and 
heard  the  carriage  roll  away,  he  made  towards  the 
opposite  door.  Pausing  to  glance  once  more  at  the 
alabaster  eftigies  before  leaving  them  to  their  silence 
and  neglect,  he  beheld  Dare  bending  over  them,  to  all 
appearance  intently  occupied. 

He  must  have  been  in  the  church  some  time — ■ 
certainly  during  the  tender  episode  between  Somerset 
and  Paula,  and  could  not  have  failed  to  perceive  it. 
Somerset  blushed  :  it  was  unpleasant  that  Dare  should 
have  seen  the  interior  of  his  heart  so  plainly.  He  went 
across  and  said,  '  I  think  I  left  you  to  finish  the  drawing 
of  the  north  wing,  Mr.  Dare?' 

'  Three  hours  ago,  sir,'  said  Dare.  '  Having  finished 
that,  I  came  to  look  at  the  church — fine  building — fine 
monuments — two  interesting  people  looking  at  them.' 

'  ^Vhat  ?  ' 

127 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  I  stand  corrected.  Poisa  molio,  paria  poco,  as  the 
Italians  have  it.' 

'  Well,  now,  Mr.  Dare,  suppose  you  get  back  to  the 
castle  ? ' 

'  Which  history  dubs  Castle  Stancy.   .   .   .  Certainly.' 

'  How  do  you  get  on  with  the  measuring  ?  ' 

Dare  sighed  whimsically.  '  Badly  in  the  morning, 
when  I  have  been  tempted  to  indulge  overnight,  and 
worse  in  the  afternoon,  when  I  have  been  tempted  in 
the  morning  ! ' 

Somerset  looked  at  the  youth,  and  said,  '  I  fear  I 
shall  have  to  dispense  with  your  services.  Dare,  for  I 
think  you  have  been  tempted  to-day.' 

'  On  my  honour  no.  My  manner  is  a  little  against 
me,  Mr.  Somerset.  But  you  need  not  fear  for  my  ability 
to  do  your  work.  I  am  a  young  man  wasted,  and  am 
thought  of  slight  account :  it  is  the  true  men  who  get 
snubbed,  while  traitors  are  allowed  to  thrive ! ' 

'  Hang  sentiment.  Dare,  and  off  with  you  ! '  A  litde 
ruffled,  Somerset  had  turned  his  back  upon  the  interest- 
ing speaker,  so  that  he  did  not  observe  the  sly  twist 
Dare  threw  into  his  right  eye  as  he  spoke.  The  latter 
went  off  in  one  direction  and  Somerset  in  the  other, 
pursuing  his  pensive  w^ay  towards  Markton  with  thoughts 
not  difficult  to  divine. 

From  one  point  in  her  nature  he  went  to  another, 
till  he  again  recurred  to  her  romantic  interest  in  the  De 
Stancy  family.  To  wish  she  was  one  of  them  :  how  very 
inconsistent  of  her.  That  she  really  did  wish  it  was 
unquestionable. 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 


XV 

1 T  was  the  day  of  the  garden-party.  The  weather  was 
too  cloudy  to  be  called  perfect,  but  it  was  as  sultry  as 
the  most  thinly-clad  young  lady  could  desire.  Great 
trouble  had  been  taken  by  Paula  to  bring  the  lawn  to 
a  fit  condition  after  the  neglect  of  recent  years,  and 
Somerset  had  suggested  the  design  for  the  tents.  As 
he  approached  the  precincts  of  the  castle  he  discerned 
a  flag  of  newest  fabric  floating  over  the  keep,  and  soon 
his  fly  fell  in  with  the  stream  of  carriages  that  were 
passing  over  the  bridge  into  the  outer  ward. 

Mrs.  Goodman  and  Paula  were  receiving  the  people 
in  the  drawing-room.  Somerset  came  forward  in  his 
turn ;  but  as  he  was  immediately  followed  by  others 
there  was  not  much  opportunity,  even  had  she  felt  the 
wish,  for  any  special  mark  of  feeling  in  the  younger 
lady's  greeting  of  him. 

He  went  on  through  a  canvas  passage,  lined  on  each 
side  with  flowering  plants,  till  he  reached  the  tents ; 
thence,  after  nodding  to  one  or  two  guests  slightly 
known  to  him,  he  proceeded  to  the  grounds,  with  a 
sense  of  being  rather  lonely.  Few  visitors  had  as  yet 
got  so  far  in,  and  as  he  vralked  up  and  down  a  shady 
alley  his  mind  dwelt  upon  the  new  aspect  under  which 
Paula  had  greeted  his  eyes  that  afternoon.  Her  black- 
and-white  costume  had   finally  disappeared,  and  in  its 

129  I 


A   LAODICEAN 

place  she  had  adopted  a  picturesque  dress  of  ivory  white, 
with  satin  enrichments  of  the  same  hue;  while  upon 
her  bosom  she  wore  a  blue  flower.  Her  days  of  in- 
festivity  were  plainly  ended,  and  her  days  of  gladness 
were  to  begin. 

His  reverie  w^as  interrupted  by  the  sound  of  his  name, 
and  looking  round  he  beheld  Havill,  who  appeared  to 
be  as  much  alone  as  himself. 

Somerset  already  knew  that  Havill  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  compete  with  him,  according  to  his  recom- 
mendation. In  measuring  a  dark  corner  a  day  or  two 
before,  he  had  stumbled  upon  Havill  engaged  in  the 
same  pursuit  with  a  view  to  the  rival  design.  Afterwards 
he  had  seen  him  receiving  Paula's  instructions  precisely 
as  he  had  done  himself.  It  was  as  he  had  wished,  for 
fairness'  sake :  and  yet  he  felt  a  regret,  for  he  was  less 
Paula's  own  architect  now. 

'Well,  Mr.  Somerset,'  said  Havill,  'since  yve  first 
met  an  unexpected  rivalry  has  arisen  between  us  !  But 
I  dare  say  we  shall  survive  the  contest,  as  it  is  not  one 
arising  out  of  love.  Ha-ha-ha  ! '  He  spoke  in  a  level 
voice  of  fierce  pleasantly,  and  uncovered  his  regular 
white  teeth. 

Somerset  supposed  him  to  allude  to  the  castle  com- 
petition ? 

'  Yes,'  said  Havill.  '  Her  proposed  undertaking 
brought  out  some  adverse  criticism  till  it  was  known 
that  she  intended  to  have  more  than  one  architectural 
opinion.  An  excellent  stroke  of  hers  to  disarm  criti- 
cism. You  saw  the  second  letter  in  the  morning 
papers  ? ' 

'  No,'  said  the  other. 

'The  writer  states  that  he  has  discovered  that  the 
competent  advice  of  two  architects  is  to  be  taken,  and 
withdraws  his  accusations.' 

Somerset  said  nothing  for  a  minute.  '  Have  you  been 
supplied  with  the  necessary  data  for  your  drawings  ?  '  he 

130 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

asked,  showing  by  the  question  the  track  his  thoughts 
had  taken. 

Havill  said  that  he  had.  '  But  possibly  not  so  com- 
pletely as  you  have,'  he  added,  again  smiling  fiercely. 
Somerset  did  not  quite  like  the  insinuation,  and  the 
two  speakers  parted,  the  younger  going  towards  the 
musicians,  who  had  now  begun  to  fill  the  air  with  their 
strains  fi-om  the  embowered  enclosure  of  a  drooping 
ash.  When  he  got  back  to  the  marquees  they  were 
quite  crowded,  and  the  guests  began  to  pour  out 
upon  the  grass,  the  toilets  of  the  ladies  presenting  a 
brilliant  spectacle — here  being  coloured  dresses  with 
white  devices,  there  white  dresses  with  coloured  devices, 
and  yonder  transparent  dresses  with  no  device  at  all. 
A  lavender  haze  hung  in  the  air,  the  trees  were  as  still 
as  those  of  a  submarine  forest ;  while  the  sun,  in  colour 
like  a  brass  plaque,  had  a  hairy  outline  in  the  livid  sky. 

After  watching  avrhile  some  young  people  who  were 
so  madly  devoted  to  lawn-tennis  that  they  set  about  it 
like  day-labourers  at  the  moment  of  their  arrival,  he 
turned  and  saw  approaching  a  graceful  figure  in  cream- 
coloured  hues,  whose  gloves  lost  themselves  beneath 
her  lace  ruffles,  even  when  she  lifted  her  hand  to  make 
firm  the  blue  flower  at  her  breast,  and  whose  hair  hung 
under  her  hat  in  great  knots  so  well  compacted  that  the 
sun  gilded  the  convexity  of  each  knot  like  a  ball. 

'  You  seem  to  be  alone,'  said  Paula,  who  had  at  last 
escaped  from  the  duty  of  receiving  guests. 

'  I  don't  know  many  people.' 

'  Yes  :   I  thought  of  that  while  I  was  in  the  drawing-^ 
room.     But  I  could  not  get  out  before.     I  am  now  no 
longer  a  responsible  being :  Mrs.  Goodman  is  mistress 
for  the  remainder  of  the  day.     Will  you  be  introduced 
to  anybody  ?     Whom  would  you  like  to  know  ?  ' 

'  I  am  not  particularly  unhappy  in  my  solitude.' 

'  But  you  must  be  made  to  know  a  few.' 

'  Very  well — I  submit  readily.' 

131 


A    LAODICEAN 

She  looked  away  from  him,  and  while  he  was 
observing  upon  her  cheek  the  moving  shadow  of  leaves 
cast  by  the  declining  sun,  she  said,  '  O,  there  is  my 
aunt,'  and  beckoned  with  her  parasol  to  that  lady, 
who  approached  in  the  comparatively  youthful  guise  of 
a  grey  silk  dress  that  whistled  at  every  touch. 

Paula  left  them  together,  and  Mrs.  Goodman  then 
made  him  acquainted  with  a  few  of  the  best  people, 
describing  what  they  were  in  a  whisper  before  they 
came  up,  among  them  being  the  Radical  member  for 
Markton,  who  had  succeeded  to  the  seat  rendered 
vacant  by  the  death  of  Paula's  father.  While  talking 
to  this  gentleman  on  the  proposed  enlargement  of  the 
castle,  Somerset  raised  his  eyes  and  hand  towards  the 
walls,  the  better  to  point  out  his  meaning ;  in  so  doing 
he  saw  a  face  in  the  square  of  darkness  formed  by  one 
of  the  open  windows,  the  effect  being  that  of  a  high- 
light portrait  by  Vandyck  or  Rembrandt. 

It  w^as  his  assistant  Dare,  leaning  on  the  window-sill 
of  the  studio,  as  he  smoked  his  cigarette  and  surveyed 
the  gay  groups  promenading  beneath. 

After  holding  a  chattering  conversation  with  some 
ladies  from  a  neighbouring  country  seat  who  had  known 
his  father  in  bygone  years,  and  handing  them  ices  and 
strawberries  till  they  were  satisfied,  he  found  an  oppor- 
tunity of  leaving  the  grounds,  wishing  to  learn  what 
progress  Dare  had  made  in  the  survey  of  the  castle. 

Dare  was  still  in  the  studio  when  he  entered. 
Somerset  informed  the  youth  that  there  was  no  neces- 
sity for  his  working  later  that  day,  unless  to  please 
himself,  and  proceeded  to  inspect  Dare's  achievements 
thus  far.  To  his  vexation  Dare  had  not  plotted  three 
dimensions  during  the  previous  two  days.  This  was 
not  the  first  time  that  Dare,  either  from  incompetence 
or  indolence,  had  shown  his  inutility  as  a  house-surveyor 
and  draughtsman. 

'  Mr.   Dare,'  said   Somerset,  '  I  fear  you  don't  suit 

132 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

me  well  enough  to  make  it  necessary  that  you  should 
stay  after  this  week.' 

Dare  removed  the  cigarette  from  his  lips  and  bowed. 
'  If  I  don't  suit,  the  sooner  I  go  the  better ;  why  wait 
the  week  ?  '  he  said. 

'  Well,  that's  as  you  like.' 

Somerset  drew  the  inkstand  towards  him,  wrote 
out  a  cheque  for  Dare's  services,  and  handed  it  across 
the  table. 

'  I'll  not  trouble  you  to-morrow,'  said  Dare,  seeing 
that  the  payment  included  the  week  in  advance. 

'  Very  well,'  replied  Somerset.  '  Please  lock  the 
door  when  you  leave.'  Shaking  hands  with  Dare  and 
wishing  him  well,  he  left  the  room  and  descended  to 
the  lawn  below. 

There  he  contrived  to  get  near  Miss  Power  again, 
and  inquired  of  her  for  Miss  De  Stancy. 

'  O  !  did  you  not  know  ?  '  said  Paula  ;  '  her  father 
is  unwell,  and  she  preferred  staying  with  him  this 
afternoon.' 

'  I  hoped  he  might  have  been  here.' 

'  O  no ;  he  never  comes  out  of  his  house  to  any 
party  of  this  sort ;  it  excites  him,  and  he  must  not 
be  excited.' 

'  Poor  Sir  William  ! '  muttered  Somerset. 

'  No,'  said  Paula,  '  he  is  grand  and  historical.' 

'  That  is  hardly  an  orthodox  notion  for  a  Puritan,' 
said  Somerset  mischievously. 

'  I  am  not  a  Puritan,'  insisted  Paula. 

The  day  turned  to  dusk,  and  the  guests  began  going 
in  relays  to  the  dining-hall.  When  Somerset  had  taken 
in  two  or  three  ladies  to  whom  he  had  been  presented, 
and  attended  to  their  wants,  which  occupied  him  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour,  he  returned  again  to  the  large  tent, 
with  a  view  to  finding  Paula  and  taking  his  leave.  It 
was  now  brilliantly  lighted  up,  and  the  musicians,  who 
during  daylight  had  been  invisible  behind  the  ash-tree, 

^33 


A   LAODICEAN 

were  ensconced  at  one  end  with  their  harps  and  violins. 
It  reminded  him  that  there  was  to  be  dancing.  The 
tent  had  in  the  meantime  half  filled  with  a  new  set  of 
young  people  who  had  come  expressly  for  that  pastime. 
Behind  the  girls  gathered  numbers  of  newly  arrived 
young  men  with  low  shoulders  and  diminutive  mous- 
taches, who  were  evidently  prepared  for  once  to  sacrifice 
themselves  as  partners. 

Somerset  felt  something  of  a  thrill  at  the  sight. 
He  was  an  infrequent  dancer,  and  particularly  unpre- 
pared for  dancing  at  present ;  but  to  dance  once  with 
Paula  Power  he  would  give  a  year  of  his  life.  He 
looked  round ;  but  she  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  The 
first  set  began  ;  old  and  middle-aged  people  gathered 
from  the  different  rooms  to  look  on  at  the  gyrations 
of  their  children,  but  Paula  did  not  appear.  When 
another  dance  or  two  had  progressed,  and  an  increase 
in  the  average  age  of  the  dancers  was  making  itself  per- 
ceptible, especially  on  the  masculine  side,  Somerset  was 
aroused  by  a  whisper  at  his  elbow — 

'  You  dance,  I  think  ?  Miss  Deverell  is  disengaged. 
She  has  not  been  asked  once  this  evening.'  The 
speaker  was  Paula. 

Somerset  looked  at  Miss  Deverell — a  sallow  lady 
with  black  twinkling  eyes,  yellow  costume,  and  gay 
laua;h,  who  had  been  there  all  the  afternoon — and  said 
something  about  having  thought  of  going  home. 

'  Is  that  because  I  asked  you  to  dance  ? '  she 
murmured.  '  There — she  is  appropriated.'  A  young 
gentleman  had  at  that  moment  approached  the  unin- 
viting Miss  Deverell,  claimed  her  hand  and  led  her  off. 

'  That's  right,'  said  Somerset.  '  I  ought  to  leave 
room  for  younger  men.' 

'  You  need  not  say  so.  That  bald-headed  gentleman 
is  forty- five.     He  does  not  think  of  younger  men.' 

'  Have  you  a  dance  to  spare  for  me  ?  ' 

Her  face  grew  stealthily  redder  in  the  candle-light. 

134 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

'  O  ! — I  have  no  engagement  at  all — I  have  refused. 
I  hardly  feel  at  liberty  to  dance;  it  would  be  as  well 
to  leave  that  to  my  visitors.' 

'  Why  ? ' 

'  My  father,  though  he  allowed  me  to  be  taught, 
never  liked  the  idea  of  my  dancing.' 

'  Did  he  make  you  promise  anything  on  the  point  ? ' 

'  He  said  he  was  not  in  favour  of  such  amusements 
— no  more.' 

'  I  think  you  are  not  bound  by  that,  on  an  informal 
occasion  like  the  present.' 

She  was  silent. 

'  You  will  just  once  ?  '  said  he. 

Another  silence,  '  If  you  like,'  she  venturesomely 
answered  at  last. 

Somerset  closed  the  hand  which  was  hanging  by  his 
side,  and  somehow  hers  was  in  it.  The  dance  was 
nearly  formed,  and  he  led  her  forward.  Several  persons 
looked  at  them  significantly,  but  he  did  not  notice  it 
then,  and  plunged  into  the  maze. 

Never  had  Mr.  Somerset  passed  through  such  an 
experience  before.  Had  he  not  felt  her  actual  weight 
and  warmth,  he  might  have  fancied  the  whole  episode 
a  figment  of  the  imagination.  It  seemed  as  if  those 
musicians  had  thrown  a  double  sweetness  into  their 
notes  on  seeing  the  mistress  of  the  castle  in  the  dance, 
that  a  perfumed  southern  atmosphere  had  begun  to 
pervade  the  marquee,  and  that  human  beings  were 
shaking  themselves  free  of  all  inconvenient  gravitation. 

Somerset's  feelings  burst  from  his  lips.  *  This  is  the 
happiest  moment  I  have  ever  known,'  he  said.  '  Do 
you  know  why  ?  ' 

'  I  think  I  saw  a  flash  of  lightning  through  the  open- 
ing of  the  tent,'  said  Paula,  with  roguish  abruptness. 

He  did  not  press  for  an  answer.  Within  a  few 
minutes  a  long  growl  of  thunder  was  heard.  It  was 
as  if  Jove  could  not  refrain  from  testifying  his  jealousy 

135 


A   LAODICEAN 

of  Somerset  for  taking  this  covetable  woman   so   pre- 
sumptuously in  his  arms. 

The  dance  was  over,  and  he  had  retired  with  Paula 
to  the  back  of  the  tent,  when  another  faint  flash  of 
lightning  was  visible  through  an  opening.  She  lifted 
the  canvas,  and  looked  out,  Somerset  looking  out 
behind  her.  Another  dance  was  begun,  and  being 
on  this  account  left  out  of  notice,  Somerset  did  not 
hasten  to  leave  Paula's  side. 

'  I  think  they  begin  to  feel  the  heat,'  she  said. 

'  A  little  ventilation  would  do  no  harm.'  He  flung 
back  the  tent  door  where  he  stood,  and  the  light  shone 
out  upon  the  grass. 

'  I  must  go  to  the  drawing-room  soon,'  she  added. 
'  They  will  begin  to  leave  shortly.' 

'  It  is  not  late.  The  thunder-cloud  has  made  it 
seem  dark — see  there ;  a  line  of  pale  yellow  stretches 
along  the  horizon  from  west  to  north.  That's  evening 
— not  gone  yet.  Shall  we  go  into  the  fresh  air  for  a 
minute  ? ' 

She  seemed  to  signify  assent,  and  he  stepped  off 
the  tent-floor  upon  the  ground.     She  stepped  off  also. 

The  air  out-of-doors  had  not  cooled,  and  without 
definitely  choosing  a  direction  they  found  themselves 
approaching  a  little  wooden  tea-house  that  stood  on 
the  lawn  a  few  yards  off.  Arrived  here,  they  turned, 
and  regarded  the  tent  they  had  just  left,  and  listened 
to  the  strains  that  came  from  within  it. 

'  I  feel  more  at  ease  now,'  said  Paula. 

'  So  do  I,'  said  Somerset. 

'  I  mean,'  she  added  in  an  undeceiving  tone,  '  because 
I  saw  Mrs.  Goodman  enter  the  tent  again  just  as  we 
came  out  here ;  so  I  have  no  further  responsibility.' 

'  I  meant  something  quite  different.  Try  to  guess 
what.' 

She  teasingly  demurred,  finally  breaking  the  silence 
by  saying,   'The  rain  is  come  at  last,'  as  great   drops 

136 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

began  to  fall  upon  the  ground  with  a  smack,  like  pellets 
of  clay. 

In  a  moment  the  storm  poured  down  with  sudden 
violence,  and  they  drew  further  back  into  the  summer- 
house.  The  side  of  the  tent  from  which  they  had 
emerged  still  remained  open,  the  rain  streaming  down 
between  their  eyes  and  the  lighted  interior  of  the 
marquee  like  a  tissue  of  glass  threads,  the  brilliant 
forms  of  the  dancers  passing  and  repassing  behind  the 
watery  screen,  as  if  they  were  people  in  an  enchanted 
submarine  palace. 

'  How  happy  they  are  ! '  said  Paula.  '  They  don't 
even  know  that  it  is  raining.  I  am  so  glad  that  my 
aunt  had  the  tent  lined ;  otherwise  such  a  downpour 
would  have  gone  clean  through  it.' 

The  thunder-storm  showed  no  symptoms  of  abate- 
ment, and  the  music  and  dancing  went  on  more  merrily 
than  ever. 

'  We  cannot  go  in,'  said  Somerset.  '  And  we  cannot 
shout  for  umbrellas.  We  will  stay  till  it  is  over,  will 
we  not  ? ' 

*  Yes,'  she  said,  '  if  you  care  to.     Ah  ! ' 
'  What  is  it  ?  ' 

'  Only  a  big  drop  came  upon  my  head.' 

*  Let  us  stand  further  in.' 

Her  hand  was  hanging  by  her  side,  and  Somerset's 
was  close  by.  He  took  it,  and  she  did  not  draw  it 
away.  Thus  they  stood  a  long  while,  the  rain  hissing 
down  upon  the  grass-plot,  and  not  a  soul  being  visible 
outside  the  dancing-tent  save  themselves. 

'  May  I  call  you  Paula  ?  '  asked  he. 

There  was  no  answer. 

'  May  I  ?  '  he  repeated. 

'Yes,  occasionally,'  she  murmured. 

'  Dear  Paula  ! — may  I  call  you  that  ? ' 

'  O  no — not  yet.' 

*  But  you  know  I  love  you  ? ' 

137 


A   LAODICEAN 

'Yes,'  she  whispered. 

'  And  shall  I  love  you  always  ?  ' 

'  If  you  wish  to.' 

'  And  will  you  love  me  ? ' 

Paula  did  not  reply. 

'  Will  you,  Paula  ?  '  he  repeated. 

'  You  may  love  me.' 

'  But  don't  you  love  me  in  return  ?  ' 

'  I  love  you  to  love  me.' 

'  Won't  you  say  anything  more  explicit  ?  ' 

'  I  would  rather  not.' 

Somerset  emitted  half  a  sigh :  he  wished  she  had 
been  more  demonstrative,  yet  felt  that  this  passive  way 
of  assenting  was  as  much  as  he  could  hope  for.  Had 
there  been  anything  cold  in  her  passivity  he  might  have 
felt  repressed ;  but  her  stillness  suggested  the  stillness 
of  motion  imperceptible  from  its  intensity. 

'  We  must  go  in,'  said  she.  '  The  rain  is  almost 
over,  and  there  is  no  longer  any  excuse  for  this.' 

Somerset  bent  his  lips  toward  hers. 

'  No,'  said  the  fair  Puritan  decisively. 

'  Why  not  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  Nobody  ever  has.' 

'But! '  expostulated  Somerset. 

'  To  everything  there  is  a  season,  and  the  season 
for  this  is  not  just  now,'  she  answered,  walking 
away. 

They  crossed  the  wet  and  glistening  lawn,  stepped 
under  the  tent  and  parted.  She  vanished,  he  did  not 
know  whither ;  and,  standing  with  his  gaze  fixed  on  the 
dancers,  the  young  man  waited,  till,  being  in  no  mood 
to  join  them,  he  went  slowly  through  the  artificial 
passage  lined  with  flowers,  and  entered  the  drawing- 
room.  Mrs.  Goodman  was  there,  bidding  good-night 
to  the  early  goers,  and  Paula  was  just  behind  her, 
apparently  in  her  usual  mood.  His  parting  with  her 
was   quite   formal,  but   that  he  did  not  mind,  for  her 

138 


GEORGE   SOMERSET 

colour  rose  decidedly  higher  as  he  approached,  and  the 
light  in  her  eyes  was  like  the  ray  of  a  diamond. 

When  he  reached  the  door  he  found  that  his  brougham 
from  the  Quantock  Arms,  which  had  been  waiting  more 
than  an  hour,  could  not  be  heard  of.  That  vagrancy 
of  spirit  which  love  induces  would  not  permit  him  to 
wait ;  and,  leaving  word  that  the  man  was  to  follow  him 
when  he  returned,  he  went  past  the  glare  of  carriage- 
lamps  ranked  in  the  ward,  and  under  the  outer  arch. 
The  night  was  now  clear  and  beautiful,  and  he  strolled 
along  his  way  full  of  mysterious  elation  till  the  vehicle 
overtook  him,  and  he  got  in. 

Up  to  this  point  Somerset's  progress  in  his  suit  had 
been,  though  incomplete,  so  uninterrupted,  that  he 
almost  feared  the  good  chance  he  enjoyed.  How 
should  it  be  in  a  mortal  of  his  calibre  to  command 
success  with  such  a  sweet  woman  for  long  ?  He  might, 
indeed,  turn  out  to  be  one  of  the  singular  exceptions 
which  are  said  to  prove  rules ;  but  when  fortune  means 
to  men  most  good,  observes  the  bard,  she  looks  upon 
them  with  a  threatening  eye.  Somerset  would  even 
have  been  content  that  a  little  disapproval  of  his  course 
should  have  occurred  in  some  quarter,  so  as  to  make 
his  wooing  more  like  ordinary  life.  But  Paula  was  not 
clearly  won,  and  that  was  drawback  sufficient.  In  these 
pleasing  agonies  and  painful  delights  he  passed  the 
journey  to  Markton. 


BOOK  THE  SECOND 


DARE  AND  HA  VILL 


DARE  AND   HAVILL 


BOOK  THE  SECOND 
DARE  AND  HA  VII 


Young  Dare  sat  thoughtfully  at  the  window  of  the 
studio  in  which  Somerset  had  left  him,  till  the  gay 
scene  beneath  became  embrowned  by  the  twilight,  and 
the  brilliant  red  stripes  of  the  marquees,  the  bright  sun- 
shades, the  many-tinted  costumes  of  the  ladies,  were 
indistinguishable  from  the  blacks  and  greys  of  the 
masculine  contingent  moving  among  them.  He  had 
occasionally  glanced  away  from  the  outward  prospect 
to  study  a  small  old  volume  that  lay  before  him  on  the 
drawing-board.  Near  scrutiny  revealed  the  book  to 
bear  the  title  '  Moivre's  Doctrine  of  Chances.' 

The  evening  had  been  so  still  that  Dare  had  heard 
conversations  from  below  with  a  clearness  unsuspected 
by  the  speakers  themselves ;  and  among  the  dialogues 
which  thus  reached  his  ears  was  that  between  Somerset 
and  Havill  on  their  professional  rivalry.  When  they 
parted,  and  Somerset  had  mingled  with  the  throng, 
Havill  went  to  a  seat  at  a  distance.  Afterwards  he 
rose,  and  walked  away;  but  on  the  bench  he  had 
quitted  there  remained  a  small  object  resembling  a 
book  or  leather  case. 

Dare  put  away  the  drawing-board  and  plotting-scales 

143 


A   LAODICEAN 

which  he  had  kept  before  him  during  the  evening  as  a 
reason  for  his  presence  at  that  post  of  espial,  locked  up 
the  door,  and  went  downstairs.  Notwithstanding  his 
dismissal  by  Somerset,  he  was  so  serene  in  countenance 
and  easy  in  gait  as  to  make  it  a  fair  conjecture  that  pro- 
fessional servitude,  however  profitable,  was  no  necessity 
with  him.  The  gloom  now  rendered  it  practicable  for 
any  unbidden  guest  to  join  Paula's  assemblage  without 
criticism,  and  Dare  walked  boldly  out  upon  the  lawn. 
The  crowd  on  the  grass  was  rapidly  diminishing;  the 
tennis-players  had  relinquished  sport ;  many  people  had 
gone  in  to  dinner  or  supper ;  and  many  others,  attracted 
by  the  cheerful  radiance  of  the  candles,  were  gather- 
ing in  the  large  tent  that  had  been  lighted  up  for 
dancing. 

Dare  went  to  the  garden-chair  on  which  Havill  had 
been  seated,  and  found  the  article  left  behind  to  be  a 
pocket-book.  Whether  because  it  was  unclasped  and 
fell  open  in  his  hand,  or  otherwise,  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
examine  the  contents.  Among  a  mass  of  architect's 
customary  memoranda  occurred  a  draft  of  the  letter 
abusing  Paula  as  an  iconoclast  or  Vandal  by  blood, 
which  had  appeared  in  the  newspaper :  the  draft  was  so 
interlined  and  altered  as  to  bear  evidence  of  being  the 
original  conception  of  that  ungentlemanly  attack. 

The  lad  read  the  letter,  smiled,  and  strolled  about 
the  grounds,  only  met  by  an  occasional  pair  of  indi- 
viduals of  opposite  sex  in  deep  conversation,  the  state 
of  whose  emotions  led  them  to  prefer  the  evening  shade 
to  the  publicity  and  glare  of  the  tents  and  rooms.  At 
last  he  observed  the  white  waistcoat  of  the  man  he 
sought. 

'  Mr.  Havill,  the  architect,  I  believe  ? '  said  Dare. 
'  The  author  of  most  of  the  noteworthy  buildings  in  this 
neighbourhood  ? ' 

Havill  assented  blandly. 

*  I  have  long  wished  for  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaint- 

144 


DARE   AND    HAVILL 

ance,  and  now  an  accident  helps  me  to  make  it.     This 
pocket-book,  I  think,  is  yours  ?  ' 

Havill  clapped  his  hand  to  his  pocket,  examined  the 
book  Dare  held  out  to  him,  and  took  it  with  thanks. 
'  I  see  I  am  speaking  to  the  artist,  arch^ologist,  Gothic 
photographer — Mr.  Dare.' 

'  Professor  Dare.' 

•  Professor  ?  Pardon  me,  I  should  not  have  guessed 
it — so  young  as  you  are.' 

'  Well,  it  is  merely  ornamental ;  and  in  truth,  I  drop 
the  title  in  England,  particularly  under  present  circum- 
stances.' 

'  Ah — they  are  peculiar,  perhaps  ?  Ah,  I  remember. 
I  have  heard  that  you  are  assisting  a  gentleman  in  pre- 
paring a  design  in  opposition  to  mine — a  design ' 

' "  That  he  is  not  competent  to  prepare  himself,"  you 
were  perhaps  going  to  add  ?  ' 

'  Not  precisely  that.' 

'You  could  hardly  be  blamed  for  such  words.  How- 
ever, you  are  mistaken.  I  did  assist  him  to  gain  a  little 
further  insight  into  the  working  of  architectural  plans ; 
but  our  views  on  art  are  antagonistic,  and  I  assist  him 
no  more.  Mr.  Havill,  it  must  be  very  provoking  to  a 
well-established  professional  man  to  have  a  rival  sprung 
at  him  in  a  grand  undertaking  which  he  had  a  right  to 
expect  as  his  own.' 

Professional  sympathy  is  often  accepted  from  those 
whose  condolence  on  any  domestic  matter  would  be 
considered  intrusive.  Havill  walked  up  and  down 
beside  Dare  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  and  at  last 
showed  that  the  words  had  told,  by  saying  :  '  Every  one 
may  have  his  opinion.  Had  I  been  a  stranger  to  the 
Power  family,  the  case  would  have  been  different ;  but 
having  been  specially  elected  by  the  lady's  father  as  a 
competent  adviser  in  such  matters,  and  then  to  be  de- 
graded to  the  position  of  a  mere  competitor,  it  wounds 
me  to  the  quick ' 

145  K 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  Both  in  purse  and  in  person,  like  the  ill-used  hostess 
of  the  Garter.' 

'A  lady  to  whom  I  have  been  a  staunch  friend,' 
continued  Havill,  not  heeding  the  interruption. 

At  that  moment  sounds  seemed  to  come  from  Dare 
which  bore  a  remarkable  resemblance  to  the  words,  '  Ho, 
ho,  Havill ! '  It  was  hardly  credible,  and  yet,  could  he 
be  mistaken  ?  Havill  turned.  Dare's  eye  was  twisted 
comically  upward. 

'  What  does  that  mean  ?  '  said  Havill  coldly,  and  with 
some  amazement. 

'  Ho,  ho,  Havill !  "  Staunch  friend "  is  good — 
especially  after  "  an  iconoclast  and  Vandal  by  blood  " — 
"  monstrosity  in  the  form  of  a  Greek  temple,"  and  so  on, 
eh!' 

'  Sir,  you  have  the  advantage  of  me.  Perhaps  you 
allude  to  that  anonymous  letter  ?  ' 

'  O — ho,  Havill ! '  repeated  the  boy-man,  turning  his 
eyes  yet  further  towards  the  zenith.  '  To  an  outsider 
such  conduct  would  be  natural ;  but  to  a  friend  who 
finds  your  pocket-book,  and  looks  into  it  before  return- 
ing it,  and  kindly  removes  a  leaf  bearing  the  draft  of  a 
letter  which  might  injure  you  if  discovered  there,  and 
carefully  conceals  it  in  his  own  pocket — why,  such  con 
duct  is  unkind ! '     Dare  held  up  the  abstracted  leaf. 

Havill  trembled.     '  I  can  explain,'  he  began. 

'  It  is  not  necessary :  we  are  friends,'  said  Dare 
assuringly. 

Havill  looked  as  if  he  would  like  to  snatch  the  leaf 
away,  but  altering  his  mind,  he  said  grimly :  *  Well,  I 
take  you  at  your  word  :  we  are  friends.  That  letter 
was  concocted  before  I  knew  of  the  competition  :  it  was 
during  my  first  disgust,  when  I  believed  myself  entirely 
supplanted.' 

'  I  am  not  in  the  least  surprised.  But  if  she  knew 
you  to  be  the  writer ! ' 

'  I   should   be  ruined  as  far  as  this  competition  is 

146 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

concerned,'  said  Havill  carelessly.  '  Kad  I  known  I 
was  to  be  invited  to  compete,  1  should  not  have  written 
it,  of  course.  To  be  supplanted  is  hard ;  and  thereby 
hangs  a  tale.' 

*  Another  tale  ?     You  astonish  me.' 

'  Then  you  have  not  heard  the  scandal,  though 
everybody  is  talking  about  it.' 

'  A  scandal  implies  indecorum.' 

'  Well,  'tis  indecorous.  Her  infatuated  partiality  for 
him  is  patent  to  the  eyes  of  a  child ;  a  man  she  has 
only  known  a  few  weeks,  and  one  who  obtained  admis- 
sion to  her  house  in  the  most  irregular  manner !  Had 
she  a  watchful  friend  beside  her,  instead  of  that  moon- 
struck jMrs.  Goodman,  she  would  be  cautioned  against 
bestowing  her  favours  on  the  first  adventurer  who 
appears  at  her  door.     It  is  a  pity,  a  great  pity ! ' 

'  O,  there  is  love-making  in  the  wind  ? '  said  Dare 
slowly.  '  That  alters  the  case  for  me.  But  it  is  not 
proved  ?  ' 

'  It  can  easily  be  proved.' 

'  I  wish  it  were,  or  disproved.' 

'You  have  only  to  come  this  way  to  clear  up  all 
doubts.' 

Havill  took  the  lad  towards  the  tent,  from  which  the 
strains  of  a  waltz  now  proceeded,  and  on  whose  sides 
flitting  shadows  told  of  the  progress  of  the  dance.  The 
companions  looked  in.  The  rosy  silk  lining  of  the 
marquee,  and  the  numerous  coronas  of  wax  lights, 
formed  a  canopy  to  a  radiant  scene  which,  for  two  at 
least  of  those  who  composed  it,  was  an  intoxicating  one. 
Paula  and  Somerset  were  dancing  together. 

'  That  proves  nothing,'  said  Dare. 

*  Look  at  their  rapt  faces,  and  say  if  it  does  not, 
sneered  Havill. 

Dare  objected  to  a  judgment  based  on  looks  alone. 
'  Very   well — time    will    show,'    said    the    architect, 
dropping    the    tent-curtain.  .  .  .  Good    God !    a    girl 

147 


A   LAODICEAN 

worth  fifty  thousand  and  more  a  year  to  throw  herself 
away  upon  a  fellow  like  that — she  ought  to  be  whipped.' 

'  Time  must  not  show  ! '  said  Dare. 

'  You  speak  with  emphasis.' 

'  I  have  reason.  I  would  give  something  to  be  sure 
on  this  point,  one  way  or  the  other.  Let  us  wait  till 
the  dance  is  over,  and  observe  them  more  carefully. 
Horensagen  ist  halb  gelogen  !     Hearsay  is  half  lies.' 

Sheet-lightnings  increased  in  the  northern  sky, 
followed  by  thunder  like  the  indistinct  noise  of  a 
battle.  Havill  and  Dare  retired  to  the  trees.  When 
the  dance  ended  Somerset  and  his  partner  emerged 
from  the  tent,  and  slowly  moved  towards  the  tea-house. 
Divining  their  goal  Dare  seized  Havill's  arm;  and  the 
two  worthies  entered  the  building  unseen,  by  first 
passing  round  behind  it.  They  seated  themselves  in 
the  back  part  of  the  interior,  where  darkness  prevailed. 

As  before  related,  Paula  and  Somerset  came  and 
stood  within  the  door.  When  the  rain  increased  they 
drew  themselves  further  inward,  their  forms  beinsr 
distinctly  outlined  to  the  gaze  of  those  lurking  behind 
by  the  light  from  the  tent  beyond.  But  the  hiss  of  the 
falling  rain  and  the  lowness  of  their  tones  prevented 
their  words  from  being  heard. 

'  I  wish  myself  out  of  this  ! '  breathed  Havill  to  Dare, 
as  he  buttoned  his  coat  over  his  white  waistcoat.  '  I 
told  you  it  was  true,  but  you  wouldn't  believe.  I 
wouldn't  she  should  catch  me  here  eavesdropping  for 
the  world  ! ' 

'  Courage,  Man  Friday,'  said  his  cooler  comrade. 

Paula  and  her  lover  backed  yet  further,  till  the  hem 
of  her  skirt  touched  Havill's  feet.  Their  attitudes  were 
sufficient  to  prove  their  relations  to  the  most  obstinate 
Didymus  who  should  have  witnessed  them.  Tender 
emotions  seemed  to  pervade  the  summer-house  like 
an  aroma.  The  calm  ecstasy  of  the  condition  of  at 
least  one  of  them  was  not  without  a  coercive  effect  upon 

148 


DARE   AND    HAVILL 

the  two  invidious  spectators,  so  that  they  must  need 
have  remained  passive  had  they  come  there  to  dis- 
turb or  annoy.  The  serenity  of  Paula  was  even  more 
impressive  than  the  hushed  ardour  of  Somerset :  she 
did  not  satisfy  curiosity  as  Somerset  satisfied  it ;  she 
piqued  it.  Poor  Somerset  had  reached  a  perfectly 
intelligible  depth — one  which  had  a  single  blissful  way 
out  of  it,  and  nine  calamitous  ones  ;  but  Paula  remained 
an  enigma  all  through  the  scene. 

The  rain  ceased,  and  the  pair  moved  away.  The 
enchantment  worked  by  their  presence  vanished,  the 
details  of  the  meeting  settled  down  in  the  watchers' 
minds,  and  their  tongues  were  loosened.  Dare,  turning 
to  Havill,  said,  '  Thank  you ;  you  have  done  me  a  timely 
turn  to-day.' 

'  What !  had  you  hopes  that  way  ? '  asked  Havill 
satirically. 

'  I !  The  woman  that  interests  my  heart  has  yet  to 
be  born,'  said  Dare,  with  a  steely  coldness  strange  in 
such  a  juvenile,  and  yet  almost  convincing.  '  But  though 
I  have  not  personal  hopes,  I  have  an  objection  to  this 
courtship.  Now  I  think  we  may  as  well  fraternize,  the 
situation  being  what  it  is  ?  ' 

'  What  is  the  situation  ?  ' 

'  He  is  in  your  way  as  her  architect ;  he  is  in  my  way 
as  her  lover :  we  don't  want  to  hurt  him,  but  we  wish 
him  clean  out  of  the  neighbourhood.' 

'  I'll  go  as  far  as  that,'  said  Havill. 

'  I  have  come  here  at  some  trouble  to  myself,  merely 
to  observe :  I  find  I  ought  to  stay  to  act.' 

'  If  you  were  myself,  a  married  man  with  people 
dependent  on  him,  who  has  had  a  professional  certainty 
turned  to  a  miserably  remote  contingency  by  these 
events,  you  might  say  you  ought  to  act ;  but  what  con- 
ceivable difference  it  can  make  to  you  who  it  is  the 
young  lady  takes  to  her  heart  and  home,  I  fail  to  under- 
stand.' 

149 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  Well,  I'll  tell  you — this  much  at  least.  I  want  to 
keep  the  place  vacant  for  another  man.' 

*  The  place  ? ' 

'  The  place  of  husband  to  Miss  Power,  and  proprietor 
of  that  castle  and  domain.' 

'  That's  a  scheme  with  a  vengeance.  Who  is  the 
man  ? ' 

'  It  is  my  secret  at  present.' 

'  Certainly.'  Havill  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  dropped 
into  a  tone  of  depression.  '  Well,  scheme  as  you  will, 
there  will  be  small  advantage  to  me,'  he  murmured. 
'  The  castle  commission  is  as  good  as  gone,  and  a  bill 
for  two  hundred  pounds  falls  due  next  week.' 

'  Cheer  up,  heart !  My  position,  if  you  only  knew 
it,  has  ten  times  the  difficulties  of  yours,  since  this 
disagreeable  discovery.  Let  us  consider  if  we  can  assist 
each  other.  The  competition  drawings  are  to  be  sent 
in — when  ?  ' 

'  In  something  over  six  weeks — a  fortnight  before  she 
returns  from  the  Scilly  Isles,  for  which  place  she  leaves 
here  in  a  few  days.' 

'  O,  she  goes  away — that's  better.  Our  lover  will  be 
working  here  at  his  drawings,  and  she  not  present.' 

'  Exactly.  Perhaps  she  is  a  little  ashamed  of  the 
intimacy.' 

'  And  if  your  design  is  considered  best  by  the  com- 
mittee, he  will  have  no  further  reason  for  staying, 
assuming  that  they  are  not  definitely  engaged  to  marry 
by  that  time  ? ' 

'  I  suppose  so,'  murmured  Havill  discontentedly. 
'  The  conditions,  as  sent  to  me,  state  that  the  designs 
are  to  be  adjudicated  on  by  three  members  of  the 
Institute  called  in  for  the  purpose;  so  that  she  may 
return,  and  have  seemed  to  show  no  favour.' 

'  Then  it  amounts  to  this  :  your  design  imcst  be  best. 
It  must  combine  the  excellences  of  your  invention  with 
the  excellences  of  his.     Meanwhile  a  coolness  should  be 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

made  to  arise  between  her  and  him  :  and  as  there  would 
be  no  artistic  reason  for  his  presence  here  after  the 
verdict  is  pronounced,  he  would  perforce  hie  back  to 
town.     Do  you  see  ?  ' 

'  I  see  the  ingenuity  of  the  plan,  but  I  also  see  two 
insurmountable  obstacles  to  it.  The  first  is,  I  cannot 
add  the  excellences  of  his  design  to  mine  without  know- 
ing what  those  excellences  are,  which  he  will  of  course 
keep  a  secret.  Second,  it  will  not  be  easy  to  promote  a 
coolness  between  such  hot  ones  as  they.' 

'  You  make  a  mistake.  It  is  only  he  who  is  so 
ardent.  She  is  only  lukewarm.  If  we  had  any  spirit,  a 
bargain  would  be  struck  between  us  :  you  would  appro- 
priate his  design ;  I  should  cause  the  coolness.' 

'  How  could  I  appropriate  his  design  ?  ' 

'  By  copying  it,  I  suppose.' 

'  Copying  it  ?  ' 

'  By  going  into  his  studio  and  looking  it  over.' 

Havill  turned  to  Dare,  and  stared.  '  By  George,  you 
don't  stick  at  trifles,  young  man.  You  don't  suppose  I 
would  go  into  a  man's  rooms  and  steal  his  inventions 
like  that  ? ' 

'  I  scarcely  suppose  you  would,'  said  Dare  indiffer- 
ently, as  he  rose. 

'  And  if  I  were  to,'  said  Havill  curiously,  '  how  is  the 
coolness  to  be  caused  ?  ' 

'  By  the  second  man.' 

'  Who  is  to  produce  him  ?  ' 

'  Her  Majesty's  Government.' 

Havill  looked  meditatively  at  his  companion,  and 
shook  his  head.  '  In  these  idle  suppositions  we  have 
been  assuming  conduct  which  would  be  quite  against 
my  principles  as  an  honest  man.' 


A   LAODICEAN 


TI 

A  FEW  days  after  the  party  at  Stancy  Castle,  Dare  was 
walking  down  the  High  Street  of  Markton,  a  cigarette 
between  his  Hps  and  a  silver-topped  cane  in  his  hand. 
His  eye  fell  upon  a  brass  plate  on  an  opposite  door, 
bearing  the  name  of  Mr.  Havill,  Architect.  He  crossed 
over,  and  rang  the  office  bell. 

The  clerk  who  admitted  him  stated  that  Mr.  Havill 
was  in  his  private  room,  and  would  be  disengaged  in  a 
short  time.  While  Dare  waited  the  clerk  affixed  to  the 
door  a  piece  of  paper  bearing  the  words  'Back  at  2,' 
and  went  away  to  his  dinner,  leaving  Dare  in  the  room 
alone. 

Dare  looked  at  the  different  drawings  on  the  boards 
about  the  room.  They  all  represented  one  subject, 
which,  though  unfinished  as  yet,  and  bearing  no  inscrip- 
tion, was  recognized  by  the  visitor  as  the  design  for  the 
enlargement  and  restoration  of  Stancy  Castle.  When 
he  had  glanced  it  over  Dare  sat  down. 

The  doors  between  the  office  and  private  room  were 
double ;  but  the  one  towards  the  office  being  only  ajar 
Dare  could  hear  a  conversation  in  progress  within.  It 
presently  rose  to  an  altercation,  the  tenor  of  which  was 
obvious.      Somebody  had  come  for  money. 

'  Really  I  can  stand  it  no  longer,  Mr.  Havill — really 
I  will  not ! '  said  the  creditor  excitedly.     '  Now  this  bill 

152 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

overdue  again — what  can  you  expect?  ^Miy,  I  might 
have  negotiated  it ;  and  where  would  you  have  been 
then  ?  Instead  of  that,  I  have  locked  it  up  out  of 
consideration  for  you;  and  what  do  I  get  for  my 
considerateness  ?     I  shall  let  the  law  take  its  course  ! ' 

'You'll  do  me  inexpressible  harm,  and  get  nothing 
whatever,'  said  Havill.  '  If  you  would  renew  for  another 
three  months  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  the  matter.' 

'  You  have  said  so  before :  I  will  do  no  such  thing.' 

There  was  a  silence;  whereupon  Dare  arose  without 
hesitation,  and  walked  boldly  into  the  private  office. 
Havill  was  standing  at  one  end,  as  gloomy  as  a  thunder- 
cloud, and  at  the  other  was  the  unfortunate  creditor 
with  his  hat  on.  Though  Dare's  entry  surprised  them, 
both  parties  seemed  relieved. 

'  I  have  called  in  passing  to  congratulate  you,  Mr. 
Havill,'  said  Dare  gaily.  '  Such  a  commission  as  has 
been  entrusted  to  you  will  make  you  famous  ! ' 

'  How  do  you  do  ? — I  wish  it  would  make  me  rich,' 
said  Havill  drily. 

'  It  will  be  a  lift  in  that  direction,  from  what  I  know 
of  the  profession.     What  is  she  going  to  spend  ?  ' 

'  A  hundred  thousand.' 

'  Your  commission  as  architect,  five  thousand.  Not 
bad,  for  making  a  few  sketches.  Consider  what  other 
great  commissions  such  a  work  will  lead  to.' 

'  \^'hat  great  work  is  this  ? '  asked  the  creditor. 

'  Stancy  Castle,'  said  Dare,  since  Havill  seemed  too 
agape  to  answer.  '  You  have  not  heard  of  it,  then  ? 
Those  are  the  drawings,  I  presume,  in  the  next  room  ?  ' 

Havill  replied  in  the  affirmative,  beginning  to  per- 
ceive the  manoeuvre.  '  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  see 
them  ?  '  he  said  to  the  creditor. 

The  latter  offered  no  objection,  and  all  three  went 
into  the  drawing-office. 

'  It  will  certainly  be  a  magnificent  structure,'  said 
the  creditor,  after  regarding  the  elevations  through  his 

153 


A   LAODICEAN 

spectacles.  '  Stancy  Castle  :  I  had  no  idea  of  it !  and 
when  do  you  begin  to  build,  Mr.  Havill  ? '  he  inquired 
in  mollified  tones. 

'  In  three  months,  I  think  ?  '  said  Dare,  looking  to 
Havill. 

Havill  assented. 

'  Five  thousand  pounds  commission,'  murmured  the 
creditor.      '  Paid  down,  I  suppose  ?  ' 

Havill  nodded. 

'  And  the  works  will  not  linger  for  lack  of  money  to 
carry  them  out,  I  imagine,'  said  Dare.  '  Two  hundred 
thousand  will  probably  be  spent  before  the  work  is 
finished.' 

'  There  is  not  much  doubt  of  it,'  said  Havill. 

'  You  said  nothing  to  me  about  this  ? '  whispered 
the  creditor  to  Havill,  taking  him  aside,  with  a  look 
of  regret. 

'  You  would  not  listen  ! ' 

'  It  alters  the  case  greatly.'  The  creditor  retired 
with  Havill  to  the  door,  and  after  a  subdued  colloquy 
in  the  passage  he  went  away,  Havill  returning  to  the 
office. 

'  What  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  hoaxing  him  like 
this,  when  the  job  is  no  more  mine  than  Inigo  Jones's?' 

'  Don't  be  too  curious,'  said  Dare,  laughing. 
'  Rather  thank  me  for  getting  rid  of  him.' 

'  But  it  is  all  a  vision  ! '  said  Havill,  ruefully  regard- 
ing the  pencilled  towers  of  Stancy  Castle.  '  If  the 
competition  were  really  the  commission  that  you  have 
represented  it  to  be  there  might  be  something  to 
laugh  at.' 

'  It  must  be  made  a  commission,  somehow,'  returned 
Dare  carelessly.  '  I  am  come  to  lend  you  a  little  assist- 
ance. I  must  stay  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  I  have 
nothing  else  to  do.' 

A  carriage  slowly  passed  the  window,  and  Havill 
recognized  the  Power  liveries.     '  Hullo — she's  coming 

154 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

here ! '  he  said  under  his  breath,  as  the  carriage  stopped 
by  the  kerb.  '  What  does  she  want,  I  wonder  ?  Dare, 
does  she  know  you  ?  ' 

'  I  would  just  as  soon  be  out  of  the  way=' 

'  Then  go  into  the  garden.' 

Dare  went  out  through  the  back  ofifice  as  Paula  was 
shown  in  at  the  front.  She  wore  a  grey  travelling 
costume,  and  seemed  to  be  in  some  haste. 

'  I  am  on  my  way  to  the  railway-station,'  she  said  to 
Havill.  '  I  shall  be  absent  from  home  for  several  weeks, 
and  since  you  requested  it,  I  have  called  to  inquire  how 
you  are  getting  on  with  the  design.' 

'  Please  look  it  over,'  said  Havill,  placing  a  seat  for 
her. 

'  No,'  said  Paula.      '  I  think  it  would  be  unfair.     I 

have  not  looked  at  Mr. the  other  architect's  plans 

since  he  has  begun  to  design  seriously,  and  I  will  not 
look  at  yours.  Are  you  getting  on  quite  well,  and  do 
you  want  to  know  anything  more  ?  If  so,  go  to  the 
castle,  and  get  anybody  to  assist  you.  Why  would  you 
not  make  use  of  the  room  at  your  disposal  in  the  castle, 
as  the  other  architect  has  done  ?  ' 

In  asking  the  question  her  face  was  towards  the 
window,  and  suddenly  her  cheeks  became  a  rosy  red. 
She  instantly  looked  another  way. 

'  Having  my  own  office  so  near,  it  was  not  necessary, 
thank  you,'  replied  Havill,  as,  noting  her  countenance, 
he  allowed  his  glance  to  stray  into  the  street.  Somerset 
was  walking  past  on  the  opposite  side. 

'  The  time  is — the  time  fixed  for  sending  in  the  draw- 
ings is  the  first  of  November,  I  believe,'  she  said  con- 
fusedly ;  '  and  the  decision  will  be  come  to  by  three 
gentlemen  who  are  prominent  members  of  the  Institute 
of  Architects.' 

Havill  then  accompanied  her  to  the  carriage,  and  she 
drove  away. 

Havill  went  to  the  back  window  to  tell  Dare  that  he 


A   LAODICEAN 

need  not  stay  in  the  garden ;  but  the  garden  was  empty. 
The  architect  remained  alone  in  his  office  for  some  time; 
at  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  when  the  scream 
of  a  railway  whistle  had  echoed  down  the  still  street, 
he  iDeheld  Somerset  repassing  the  window  in  a  direc- 
tion from  the  railway,  with  somewhat  of  a  sad  gait.  In 
another  minute  Dare  entered,  humming  the  latest  air 
of  Offenbach. 

'  'Tis  a  mere  piece  of  duplicity  ! '  said  Havill. 

'  What  is  ?  ' 

'  Her  pretending  indifference  as  to  which  of  us  comes 
out  successful  in  the  competition,  when  she  colours 
carmine  the  moment  Somerset  passes  by.'  He  described 
Paula's  visit,  and  the  incident. 

*  It  may  not  mean  Cupid's  Entire  XXX  after  all/ 
said  Dare  judicially.  '  The  mere  suspicion  that  a 
certain  man  loves  her  would  make  a  girl  blush  at  his 
unexpected  appearance.  Well,  she's  gone  from  him  for 
a  time ;  the  better  for  you.' 

'  He  has  been  privileged  to  see  her  off  at  any  rate.' 

'  Not  privileged.' 

'  How  do  you  know  that  ?  ' 

'  I  went  out  of  your  garden  by  the  back  gate,  and 
followed  her  carriage  to  the  railway.  He  simply  went 
to  the  first  bridge  outside  the  station,  and  waited.  When 
she  was  in  the  train,  it  moved  forward  ;  he  was  all  ex- 
pectation, and  drew  out  his  handkerchief  ready  to  wave, 
while  she  looked  out  of  the  window  towards  the  bridge. 
The  train  backed  before  it  reached  the  bridge,  to  attach 
the  box  containing  her  horses,  and  the  carriage-truck. 
Then  it  started  for  good,  and  when  it  reached  the  bridge 
she  looked  out  again,  he  waving  his  handkerchief  to  her.' 

'  And  she  waving  hers  back  ?  ' 

'  No,  she  didn't.' 

'  Ah ! ' 

'  She  looked  at  him — nothing  more.  I  wouldn't  give 
much    for    his    chance.'       After    a    while    Dare    added 

156 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

musingly :  '  You  are  a  mathematician  :  did  you  ever 
investigate  the  doctrine  of  expectations  ?  ' 

'  Never.' 

Dare  drew  from  his  pocket  his  '  Book  of  Chances,'  a 
volume  as  well  thumbed  as  the  minister's  Bible.  '  This 
is  a  treatise  on  the  subject,'  he  said.  '  I  will  teach  it 
to  you  some  day.' 

The  same  evening  Havill  asked  Dare  to  dine  with 
him.  He  was  just  at  this  time  living  en  garcon,  his 
wife  and  children  being  away  on  a  visit.  After  dinner 
they  sat  on  till  their  faces  were  rather  flushed.  The 
talk  turned,  as  before,  on  the  castle-competition. 

'  To  know  his  design  is  to  win,'  said  Dare.  '  And 
to  win  is  to  send  him  back  to  London  where  he  came 
from.' 

Havill  inquired  if  Dare  had  seen  any  sketch  of  the 
design  while  with  Somerset  ? 

*  Not  a  line.  I  was  concerned  only  with  the  old 
building.' 

'  Not  to  know  it  is  to  lose,  undoubtedly,'  murmured 
Havill.      . 

'  Suppose  we  go  for  a  walk  that  way,  instead  of 
consulting  here  ? ' 

They  went  down  the  town,  and  along  the  highway. 
When  they  reached  the  entrance  to  the  park  a  man 
driving  a  basket-carriage  came  out  from  the  gate  and 
passed  them  by  in  the  gloom. 

'  That  was  he,'  said  Dare.  '  He  sometimes  drives 
over  from  the  hotel,  and  sometimes  walks.  He  has 
been  working  late  this  evening.' 

Strolling  on  under  the  trees  they  met  three  masculine 
figures,  laughing  and  talking  loudly. 

'  Those  are  the  three  first-class  London  draughts- 
men, Bowles,  Knowles,  and  Cockton,  whom  he  has 
engaged  to  assist  him,  regardless  of  expense,'  continued 
Dare. 

157 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  O  Lord  ! '  groaned  Havill.  '  There's  no  chance 
for  me.' 

The  castle  now  arose  before  them,  endowed  by  the  ray- 
less  shade  with  a  more  massive  majesty  than  either  sun- 
light or  moonlight  could  impart ;  and  Havill  sighed  again 
as  he  thought  of  what  he  was  losing  by  Somerset's  rivalry. 
'  Well,  what  was  the  use  of  coming  here  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  I  thought  it  might  suggest  something — some  way 
of  seeing  the  design.  The  servants  would  let  us  into 
his  room,  I  dare  say.' 

'  I  don't  care  to  ask.  Let  us  v.'alk  through  the 
wards,  and  then  homeward.' 

They  sauntered  on  smoking,  Dare  leading  the  way 
through  the  gate-house  into  a  corridor  which  was  not 
inclosed,  a  lamp  hanging  at  the  further  end. 

'  We  are  getting  into  the  inhabited  part,  I  think,'  said 
Havill. 

Dare,  however,  had  gone  on,  and  knowing  the 
tortuous  passages  from  his  few  days'  experience  in 
measuring  them  with  Somerset,  he  came  to  the  butler's 
pantry.  Dare  knocked,  and  nobody  answering  he  en- 
tered, took  down  a  key  which  hung  behind  the  door, 
and  rejoined  Havill.  '  It  is  all  right,'  he  said.  '  The 
cat's  away ;  and  the  mice  are  at  play  in  consequence.' 

Proceeding  up  a  stone  staircase  he  unlocked  the 
door  of  a  room  in  the  dark,  struck  a  light  inside,  and 
returning  to  the  door  called  in  a  whisper  to  Havill,  who 
had  remained  behind.  '  This  is  Mr.  Somerset's  studio,' 
he  said. 

'  How  did  you  get  permission  ?  '  inquired  Havill,  not 
knowing  that  Dare  had  seen  no  one. 

'  Anyhow,'  said  Dare  carelessly.  '  We  can  examine 
the  plans  at  leisure;  for  if  the  placid  Mrs.  Goodman, 
who  is  the  only  one  at  home,  sees  the  light,  she  will 
only  think  it  is  Somerset  still  at  work.' 

Dare  uncovered  the  drawings,  and  young  Somerset's 
brain-work  for  the  last  six  weeks  lay  under  their  eyes. 

.58 


DARE  AND   HAVILL 

To  Dare,  who  was  too  cursory  to  trouble  himself  by 
entering  into  such  details,  it  had  very  little  meaning ; 
but  the  design  shone  into  Havill's  head  like  a  light  into 
a  dark  place.  It  was  original ;  and  it  was  fascinating. 
Its  originality  lay  partly  in  the  circumstance  that 
Somerset  had  not  attempted  to  adapt  an  old  building 
to  the  wants  of  the  new  civilization.  He  had  placed 
his  new  erection  beside  it  as  a  slightly  attached  structure, 
harmonizing  with  the  old;  heightening  and  beautifying, 
rather  than  subduing  it.  His  work  formed  a  palace, 
with  a  ruinous  castle  annexed  as  a  curiosity.  To  Havill 
the  conception  had  more  charm  than  it  could  have  to 
the  most  appreciative  outsider ;  for  when  a  mediocre 
and  jealous  mind  that  has  been  cudgelling  itself  over 
a  problem  capable  of  many  solutions,  lights  on  the 
solution  of  a  rival,  all  possibilities  in  that  kind  seem 
to  merge  in  the  one  beheld. 

Dare  was  struck  by  the  arrested  expression  of  the 
architect's  face.     '  Is  it  rather  good  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  Yes,  rather,'  said  Havill,  subduing  himself. 

'  More  than  rather  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  the  clever  devil ! '  exclaimed  Havill,  unable  to 
depreciate  longer. 

'  How  ? ' 

'  The  riddle  that  has  worried  me  three  weeks  he 
has  solved  in  a  way  which  is  simplicity  itself  He  has 
got  it,  and  I  am  undone  ! ' 

'  Nonsense,  don't  give  way.     Let's  make  a  tracing.' 

'  The  ground-plan  will  be  sufficient,'  said  Havill,  his 
courage  reviving.  '  The  idea  is  so  simple,  that  if  once 
seen  it  is  not  easily  forgotten.' 

A  rough  tracing  of  Somerset's  design  was  quickly 
made,  and  blowing  out  the  candle  with  a  wave  of  his 
hand,  the  younger  gentleman  locked  the  door,  and  they 
went  downstairs  again. 

'  I  should  never  have  thought  of  it,'  said  Havill,  as 
they  walked  homeward. 

159 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  One  man  has  need  of  another  every  ten  years : 
Ogni  died  anni  un  uomo  ha  bisogno  dell'  altro,  as  they 
say  in  Italy.  You'll  help  me  for  this  turn  if  I  have 
need  of  you  ? ' 

'  I  shall  never  have  the  power.' 

'  O  yes,  you  will.  A  man  who  can  contrive  to  get 
admitted  to  a  competition  by  writing  a  letter  abusing 
another  man,  has  any  amount  of  power.  The  stroke 
was  a  good  one.' 

Havill  was  silent  till  he  said,  '  I  think  these  gusts 
mean  that  we  are  to  have  a  storm  of  rain.' 

Dare  looked  up.  The  sky  was  overcast,  the  trees 
shivered,  and  a  drop  or  two  began  to  strike  into  the 
walkers'  coats  from  the  east.  They  were  not  far  from 
the  inn  at  Sleeping-Green,  where  Dare  had  lodgings, 
occupying  the  rooms  which  had  been  used  by  Somerset 
till  he  gave  them  up  for  more  commodious  chambers  at 
Markton ;  and  they  decided  to  turn  in  there  till  the  rain 
should  be  over. 

Having  possessed  himself  of  Somerset's  brains  Havill 
was  inclined  to  be  jovial,  and  ordered  the  best  in  wines 
that  the  house  afforded.  Before  starting  from  home 
they  had  drunk  as  much  as  was  good  for  them  ;  so  that 
their  potations  here  soon  began  to  have  a  marked  effect 
upon  their  tongues.  The  rain  beat  upon  the  windows 
with  a  dull  dogged  pertinacity  which  seemed  to  signify 
boundless  reserves  of  the  same  and  long  continuance. 
The  wind  rose,  the  sign  creaked,  and  the  candles  waved. 
The  weather  had,  in  truth,  broken  up  for  the  season, 
and  this  was  the  first  night  of  the  change. 

'  Well,  here  we  are,'  said  Havill,  as  he  poured  out 
another  glass  of  the  brandied  liquor  called  old  port  at 
Sleeping-Green ;  '  and  it  seems  that  here  we  are  to 
remain  for  the  present.' 

'  I  am  at  home  anywhere ! '  cried  the  lad,  whose  brow 
was  hot  and  eye  wild. 

Havill,  who   had   not   drunk    enough    to  affect    his 

i6o 


DARE   AND    HAVILL 

reasoning,  held  up  his  glass  to  the  light  and  said,  '  I 
never  can  quite  make  out  what  you  are,  or  what  your 
age  is.  Are  you  sixteen,  one-and-twenty,  or  twenty- 
seven?  And  are  you  an  Englishman,  Frenchman, 
Indian,  American,  or  what  ?  You  seem  not  to  have 
taken  your  degrees  in  these  parts.' 

'  That's  a  secret,  my  friend,'  said  Dare.  '  I  am  a 
citizen  of  the  w^orld.  I  owe  no  country  patriotism,  and 
no  king  or  queen  obedience.  A  man  whose  country 
has  no  boundary  is  your  only  true  gentleman.' 

'  Well,  where  were  you  born — somewhere,  I  sup- 
pose ? ' 

'  It  would  be  a  fact  worth  the  telling.  The  secret 
of  my  birth  lies  here.'  And  Dare  slapped  his  breast 
with  his  right  hand. 

'  Literally,  just  under  your  shirt-front ;  or  figuratively, 
in  your  heart  ?  '  asked  Havill. 

'  Literally  there.  It  is  necessary  that  it  should  be 
recorded,  for  one's  own  memory  is  a  treacherous  book 
of  reference,  should  verification  be  required  at  a  time  of 
delirium,  disease,  or  death.' 

Havill  asked  no  further  what  he  meant,  and  went 
to  the  door.  Finding  that  the  rain  still  continued  he 
returned  to  Dare,  who  was  by  this  time  sinking  down 
in  a  one-sided  attitude,  as  if  hung  up  by  the  shoulder. 
Informing  his  companion  that  he  was  but  little  inclined 
to  move  far  in  such  a  tempestuous  night,  he  decided  to 
remain  in  the  inn  till  next  morning. 

On  calling  in  the  landlord,  however,  they  learnt  that 
the  house  was  full  of  farmers  on  their  way  home  from 
a  large  sheep-fair  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  that 
several  of  these,  having  decided  to  stay  on  account  of 
the  same  tempestuous  weather,  had  already  engaged  the 
spare  beds.  If  Mr.  Dare  would  give  up  his  room,  and 
share  a  double-bedded  room  with  Mr.  Havill,  the  thing 
could  be  done,  but  not  otherwise. 

To    this    the    two    companions    agreed,    and    pre- 

i6i  L 


A   LAODICEAN 

sently  went  upstairs  with  as  gentlemanly  a  walk  and 
vertical  a  candle  as  they  could  exhibit  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. 

The  other  inmates  of  the  inn  soon  retired  to 
rest,  and  the  storm  raged  on  unheeded  by  all  local 
humanity. 


DARE  AND  HAVILL 


III 

J\T  two  o'clock  the  rain  lessened  its  fury.  At  half- 
past  two  the  obscured  moon  shone  forth  ;  and  at  three 
Havill  awoke.  The  blind  had  not  been  pulled  down 
overnight,  and  the  moonlight  streamed  into  the  room, 
across  the  bed  whereon  Dare  was  sleeping.  He  lay 
on  his  back,  his  arms  thrown  out ;  and  his  well-curved 
youthful  form  looked  like  an  unpedestaled  Dionysus  in 
the  colourless  lunar  rays. 

Sleep  had  cleared  Havill 's  mind  from  the  drowsing 
effects  of  the  last  night's  sitting,  and  he  thought  of 
Dare's  mysterious  manner  in  speaking  of  himself.  This 
lad  resembled  the  Etruscan  youth  Tages,  in  one  respect, 
that  of  being  a  boy  with,  seemingly,  the  wisdom  of  a 
sage ;  and  the  effect  of  his  presence  was  now  heightened 
by  all  those  sinister  and  mystic  attributes  which  are  lent 
by  nocturnal  environment.  He  who  in  broad  daylight 
might  be  but  a  young  chevalier  d^iJtdustrie  was  now  an 
unlimited  possibility  in  social  phenomena.  Havill  re- 
membered how  the  lad  had  pointed  to  his  breast,  and 
said  that  his  secret  was  literally  kept  there.  The  archi- 
tect was  too  much  of  a  provincial  to  have  quenched  the 
common  curiosity  that  was  part  of  his  nature  by  the 
acquired  metropolitan  indifference  to  other  people's  lives 
which,  in  essence  more  unworthy  even  than  the  former, 
causes  less  practical  inconvenience  in  its  exercise. 

163 


A   LAODICEAN 

Dare  was  breathing  profoundly.  Instigated  as  above 
mentioned,  Havill  got  out  of  bed  and  stood  beside  the 
sleeper.  After  a  moment's  pause  he  gently  pulled  back 
the  unfastened  collar  of  Dare's  nightshirt  and  saw  a 
word  tattooed  in  distinct  characters  on  his  breast. 
Before  there  was  time  for  Havill  to  decipher  it  Dare 
moved  slightly,  as  if  conscious  of  disturbance,  and 
Havill  hastened  back  to  bed.  Dare  bestirred  himself 
yet  more,  whereupon  Havill  breathed  heavily,  though 
keeping  an  intent  glance  on  the  lad  through  his  half- 
closed  eyes  to  learn  if  he  had  been  aware  of  the 
investigation. 

Dare  was  certainly  conscious  of  something,  for  he 
sat  up,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  gazed  around  the  room ; 
then  after  a  few  moments  of  reflection  he  drew  some 
article  from  beneath  his  pillow.  A  blue  gleam  shone 
from  the  object  as  Dare  held  it  in  the  moonlight,  and 
Havill  perceived  that  it  was  a  small  revolver. 

A  clammy  dew  broke  out  upon  the  face  and  body 
of  the  architect  when,  stepping  out  of  bed  with  the 
weapon  in  his  hand.  Dare  looked  under  the  bed, 
behind  the  curtains,  out  of  the  window,  and  into  a 
closet,  as  if  convinced  that  something  had  occurred, 
but  in  doubt  as  to  what  it  was.  He  then  came  across 
to  where  Havill  was  lying  and  still  keeping  up  the 
appearance  of  sleep.  Watching  him  awhile  and  mis- 
trusting the  reality  of  this  semblance.  Dare  brought  it 
to  the  test  by  holding  the  revolver  within  a  few  inches 
of  Havill's  forehead. 

Havill  could  stand  no  more.  Crystallized  with 
terror,  he  said,  without  however  moving  more  than 
his  lips,  in  dread  of  hasty  action  on  the  part  of  Dare : 
'  O,  good  Lord,  Dare,  Dare,  I  have  done  nothing ! ' 

The  youth  smiled  and  lowered  the  pistol.  '  I  was 
only  finding  out  whether  it  was  you  or  some  burglar  who 
had  been  playing  tricks  upon  me.     I  find  it  was  you.' 

'  Do   put   away   that   thing !      It   is   too  ghastly   to 

104 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

produce    in    a    respectable    bedroom.      Why    do    you 
carr)'  it  ? ' 

'  Cosmopolites  always  do.  Now  answer  my  ques- 
tions. What  were  you  up  to  ? '  and  Dare  as  he  spoke 
played  with  the  pistol  again. 

Havill  had  recovered  some- coolness.  'You  could 
not  use  it  upon  me,'  he  said  sardonically,  watching 
Dare.  '  It  would  be  risking  your  neck  for  too  little 
an  object.' 

'  I  did  not  think  you  were  shrewd  enough  to  see 
that,'  replied  Dare  carelessly,  as  he  returned  the  revolver 
to  its  place.  'Well,  whether  you  have  outwitted  me 
or  no,  you  will  keep  the  secret  as  long  as  I  choose.' 

'  Why  ?  '  said  Havill. 

'  Because  I  keep  your  secret  of  the  letter  abusing 
Miss  P.,  and  of  the  pilfered  tracing  you  carry  in  your 
pocket.' 

'  It  is  quite  true,'  said  Havill, 

They  went  to  bed  again.  Dare  was  soon  asleep ; 
i)ut  Havill  did  not  attempt  to  disturb  him  again.  The 
elder  man  slept  but  fitfully.  He  was  aroused  in  the 
morning  by  a  heavy  rumbUng  and  jingling  along  the 
highway  overlooked  by  the  window,  the  front  wall  of  the 
house  being  shaken  by  the  reverberation. 

'  There  is  no  rest  for  me  here,'  he  said,  rising  and 
going  to  the  window,  carefully  avoiding  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Mr.  Dare.  When  Havill  had  glanced  out  he 
returned  to  dress  himself. 

'What's  that  noise?'  said  Dare,  awakened  by  the 
same  rumble. 

'  It  is  the  Artillery  going  away.' 

'  From  where  ?  ' 

'  Markton  barracks.' 

'  Hurrah  ! '  said  Dare,  jumping  up  in  bed.  '  I  have 
been  waiting  for  that  these  six  weeks.' 

Havill  did  not  ask  questions  as  to  the  meaning  of 
this  unexpected  remark. 

165 


A   LAODICEAN 

When  they  were  downstairs  Dare's  first  act  was  to 
ring  the  bell  and  ask  if  his  Army  and  Navy  Gazette  had 
arrived. 

While  the  servant  was  gone  Havill  cleared  his  throat 
and  said,  '  I  am  an  architect,  and  I  take  in  the  Architect : 
you  are  an  architect,  and  you  take  in  the  Army  and 
Navy  Gazette.^ 

'  I  am  not  an  architect  any  more  than  I  am  a  soldier ; 
but  I  have  taken  in  the  Army  and  Navy  Gazette  these 
many  weeks.' 

When  they  were  at  breakfast  the  paper  came  in. 
Dare  hastily  tore  it  open  and  glanced  at  the  pages. 

'  I  am  going  to  Markton  after  breakfast ! '  he  said 
suddenly,  before  looking  up ;  '  we  will  walk  together  if 
you  like  ? ' 

They  walked  together  as  planned,  and  entered 
Markton  about  ten  o'clock. 

'  I  have  just  to  make  a  call  here,'  said  Dare,  when 
they  were  opposite  the  barrack-entrance  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  town,  where  wheel-tracks  and  a  regular  chain  of 
hoof-marks  left  by  the  departed  batteries  were  imprinted 
in  the  gravel  between  the  open  gates.  '  I  shall  not  be 
a  moment.'  Havill  stood  still  while  his  companion 
entered  and  asked  the  commissary  in  charge,  or  some- 
body representing  him,  when  the  new  batteries  would 
arrive  to  take  the  place  of  those  which  had  gone  away. 
He  was  informed  that  it  would  be  about  noon. 

'  Now  I  am  at  your  service,'  said  Dare,  '  and  will 
help  you  to  rearrange  your  design  by  the  new  intellectual 
light  we  have  acquired.' 

They  entered  Havill's  office  and  set  to  work.  When 
contrasted  with  the  tracing  from  Somerset's  plan,  Havill's 
design,  which  was  not  far  advanced,  revealed  all  its 
weaknesses  to  him.  After  seeing  Somerset's  scheme 
the  bands  of  Havill's  imagination  were  loosened :  he 
laid  his  own  previous  efforts  aside,  got  fresh  sheets  of 
drawing-paper  and  drew  with  vigour. 

i66 


DARE  AND   HAVILL 

'  I  may  as  well  stay  and  help  you,'  said  Dare.  '  I 
have  nothing  to  do  till  twelve  o'clock]  and  not  much 
then.' 

So  there  he  remained.  At  a  quarter  to  twelve 
children  and  idlers  began  to  gather  against  the  railings 
of  Havill's  house.  A  few  minutes  past  twelve  the  noise 
of  an  arri\ing  host  was  heard  at  the  entrance  to  the  town. 
Tjiereupon  Dare  and  Havill  went  to  the  window. 

The  X  and  Y  Batteries  of  the  Z  Brigade,  Royal 
Horse  Artillery,  were  entering  Markton,  each  headed  by 
the  major  with  his  bugler  behind  him.  In  a  moment 
they  came  abreast  and  passed,  every  man  in  his  place ; 
that  is  to  say  : 

Six  shining  horses,  in  pairs,  harnessed  by  rope-traces 
white  as  milk,  with  a  driver  on  each  near  horse :  two 
gunners  on  the  lead-coloured  stout-wheeled  limber,  their 
carcases  jolted  to  a  jelly  for  lack  of  springs  :  two  gunners 
on  the  lead-coloured  stout-wheeled  gun-carriage,  in  the 
same  personal  condition  :  the  nine-pounder  gun,  dipping 
its  heavy  head  to  earth,  as  if  ashamed  of  its  office  in 
these  enlightened  times :  the  complement  of  jingling 
and  prancing  troopers,  riding  at  the  wheels  and  else- 
where :  six  shinijig  horses  with  their  drivers,  and  traces 
white  as  milk,  as  before :  two  more  gallant  jolted  men, 
on  another  jolting  limber,  and  more  stout  wheels  and 
lead-coloured  paint :  two  more  jolted  men  on  another 
drooping  gun :  more  jingling  troopers  on  horseback : 
again  six  shining  draught-horses,  traces,  drivers,  gun, 
gunners,  lead  paint,  stout  wheels  and  troopers  as  before. 

So  each  detachment  lumbered  slov/ly  by,  all  eyes 
martially  forward,  except  when  wandering  in  quest  of 
female  beauty. 

'  He's  a  fine  fellow,  is  he  not  ? '  said  Dare,  denoting 
by  a  nod  a  mounted  officer,  with  a  sallow,  yet  handsome 
face,  and  black  moustache,  who  came  up  on  a  bay 
gelding  with  the  men  of  his  battery. 

'  What  is  he  ?  '  said  Havill. 

167 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  A  captain  who  lacks  advancement.' 

'  Do  you  know  him  ?  ' 

'  I  know  him  ?  ' 

'  Yes  ;  do  you  ?  ' 

Dare  made  no  reply ;  and  they  watched  the  captain 
as  he  rode  past  with  his  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  the 
sun  making  a  little  sun  upon  its  blade,  and  upon  his 
brilliantly  polished  long  boots  and  bright  spurs ;  also 
warming  his  gold  cross-belt  and  braidings,  white  gloves, 
busby  with  its  red  bag,  and  tall  white  plume. 

Havill  seemed  to  be  too  indifferent  to  press  his 
questioning ;  and  when  all  the  soldiers  had  passed  by. 
Dare  observed  to  his  companion  that  he  should  leave 
him  for  a  short  time,  but  would  return  in  the  afternoon 
or  next  day. 

After  this  he  walked  up  the  street  in  the  rear  of  the 
artillery,  following  them  to  the  barracks.  On  reaching 
the  gates  he  found  a  crowd  of  people  gathered  outside, 
looking  with  admiration  at  the  guns  and  gunners  drawn 
up  within  the  enclosure.  When  the  soldiers  were  dis- 
missed to  their  quarters  the  sightseers  dispersed,  and 
Dare  went  through  the  gates  to  the  barrack-yard. 

The  guns  were  standing  on  the  green  ;  the  soldiers 
and  horses  were  scattered  about,  and  the  handsome 
captain  whom  Dare  had  pointed  out  to  Havill  was 
inspecting  the  buildings  in  the  company  of  the  quarter- 
master. Dare  made  a  mental  note  of  these  things,  and, 
apparently  changing  a  previous  intention,  vv^ent  out  from 
the  barracks  and  returned  to  the  town. 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 


IV 

1  O  return  for  a  while  to  George  Somerset.  The  sun 
of  his  later  existence  having  vanished  from  that  young 
man's  horizon,  he  confined  himself  closely  to  the  studio, 
superintending  the  exertions  of  his  draughtsmen  Bowles, 
Knowles,  and  Cockton,  who  were  now  in  the  full  swing 
of  working  out  Somerset's  creations  from  the  sketches 
he  had  previously  prepared. 

He  had  so  far  got  the  start  of  Havill  in  the  com- 
petition that,  by  the  help  of  these  three  gentlemen, 
his  design  was  soon  finished.  But  he  gained  no 
unfair  advantage  on  this  account,  an  additional  month 
being  allowed  to  Havill  to  compensate  for  his  later 
information. 

Before  sealing  up  his  drawings  Somerset  wished  to 
spend  a  short  time  in  London,  and  dismissing  his 
assistants  till  further  notice,  he  locked  up  the  rooms 
which  had  been  appropriated  as  office  and  studio  and 
prepared  for  the  journey. 

It  was  afternoon.  Somerset  walked  from  the  castle 
in  the  direction  of  the  wood  to  reach  Markton  by  a 
detour.  He  had  not  proceeded  far  when  there  ap- 
proached his  path  a  man  riding  a  bay  horse  with  a 
square-cut  tail.  The  equestrian  wore  a  grizzled  beard, 
and  looked  at  Somerset  with  a  piercing  eye  as  he 
noiselessly  ambled  nearer  over  the  soft  sod  of  the  park. 

169 


A   LAODICEAN 

He  proved  to  be  Mr.  Cunningham  Haze,  chief  constable 
of  the  district,  who  had  become  slightly  known  to 
Somerset  during  his  sojourn  here. 

'  One  word,  Mr.  Somerset,'  said  the  Chief,  after  they 
had  exchanged  nods  of  recognition,  reining  his  horse  as 
he  spoke. 

Somerset  stopped. 

'  You  have  a  studio  at  the  castle  in  which  you  are 
preparing  drawings  ? ' 

'  I  have.' 

'  Have  you  a  clerk  ? ' 

'  I  had  three  till  yesterday,  when  I  paid  them  off.' 

'  Would  they  have  any  right  to  enter  the  studio  late 
at  night  ? ' 

'  There  would  have  been  nothing  wrong  in  their 
doing  so.  Either  of  them  might  have  gone  back  at 
any  time  for  something  forgotten.  They  lived  quite 
near  the  castle.' 

'  Ah,  then  all  is  explained.  I  was  riding  past  over 
the  grass  on  the  night  of  last  Thursday,  and  I  saw  two 
persons  in  your  studio  with  a  light.  It  must  have  been 
about  half-past  nine  o'clock.  One  of  them  came  for- 
ward and  pulled  down  the  blind  so  that  the  light  fell 
upon  his  face.     But  I  only  saw  it  for  a  short  time.' 

*  If  it  were  Knowles  or  Cockton  he  would  have  had 
a  beard.' 

'  He  had  no  beard.' 

'  Then  it  must  have  been  Bowles.     A  young  man  ?  ' 

'  Quite  young.  His  companion  in  the  background 
seemed  older.' 

'  They  are  all  about  the  same  age  really.  By  the 
way — it  couldn't  have  been  Dare — and  Havill,  surely  ! 
Would  you  recognize  them  again  ?  ' 

'  The  young  one  possibly.  The  other  not  at  all, 
for  he  remained  in  the  shade.' 

Somerset  endeavoured  to  discern  in  a  description 
by  the  chief  constable  the  features  of  Mr.  Bowles ;  but 

170 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

it  seemed  to  approximate  more  closely  to  Dare  in  spite 
of  himself.  '  I'll  make  a  sketch  of  the  only  one  who 
had  no  business  there,  and  show  it  to  you,'  he  presently 
said.      '  I  should  like  this  cleared  up.' 

Mr.  Cunningham  Haze  said  he  was  going  to  Tone- 
borough  that  afternoon,  but  would  return  in  the  evening 
before  Somerset's  departure.  With  this  they  parted. 
A  possible  motive  for  Dare's  presence  in  the  rooms 
had  instantly  presented  itself  to  Somerset's  mind,  for 
he  had  seen  Dare  enter  Havill's  office  more  than  once, 
as  if  he  were  at  work  there. 

He  accordingly  sat  on  the  next  stile,  and  taking  out 
his  pocket-book  began  a  pencil  sketch  of  Dare's  head, 
to  show  to  Mr.  Haze  in  the  evening ;  for  if  Dare  had 
indeed  found  admission  with  Havill,  or  as  his  agent, 
the  design  was  lost. 

But  he  could  not  make  a  drawing  that  was  a  satis- 
factory likeness.  Then  he  luckily  remembered  that 
Dare,  in  the  intense  warmth  of  admiration  he  had 
affected  for  Somerset  on  the  first  day  or  two  of  their 
acquaintance,  had  begged  for  his  photograph,  and  in 
return  for  it  had  left  one  of  himself  on  the  mantelpiece, 
taken  as  he  said  by  his  own  process.  Somerset  resolved 
to  show  this  production  to  Mr.  Haze,  as  being  more 
to  the  purpose  than  a  sketch,  and  instead  of  finishing 
the  latter,  proceeded  on  his  way. 

He  entered  the  old  overgrown  drive  which  wound 
indirectly  through  the  wood  to  Markton.  The  road, 
having  been  laid  out  for  idling  rather  than  for  progress, 
bent  sharply  hither  and  thither  among  the  fissured 
trunks  and  layers  of  horny  leaves  which  lay  there  all 
the  year  round,  interspersed  with  cushions  of  vivid 
green  moss  that  formed  oases  in  the  rust-red  expanse. 

Reaching  a  point  where  the  road  made  one  of  its 
bends  between  two  large  beeches,  a  man  and  woman 
revealed  themselves  at  a  few  yards'  distance,  walking 
slowly  towards  him.     In  the  short  and  quaint  lady  he 

171 


A    LAODICEAN 

recognized  Charlotte  De  Stancy,  whom  he  remembered 
not  to  have  seen  for  several  days. 

She  slightly  blushed  and  said,  '  O,  this  is  pleasant, 
Mr.  Somerset !  Let  me  present  my  brother  to  you, 
Captain  De  Stancy  of  the  Royal  Horse  Artillery.' 

Her  brother  came  forward  and  shook  hands  heartily 
with  Somerset ;  and  they  all  three  rambled  on  together, 
talking  of  the  season,  the  place,  the  fishing,  the  shoot- 
ing, and  whatever  else  came  uppermost  in  their  minds. 

Captain  De  Stancy  was  a  personage  who  would  have 
been  called  interesting  by  women  well  out  of  their 
teens.  He  was  ripe,  without  having  declined  a  digit 
towards  fogeyism.  He  was  sufficiently  old  and  ex- 
perienced to  suggest  a  goodly  accumulation  of  touching 
amourettes  in  the  chambers  of  his  memory,  and  not 
too  old  for  the  possibility  of  increasing  the  store.  He 
was  apparently  about  eight-and-thirty,  less  tall  than  his 
father  had  been,  but  admirably  made ;  and  his  every 
movement  exhibited  a  fine  combination  of  strength 
and  flexibility  of  limb.  His  face  was  somewhat  thin 
and  thoughtful,  its  complexion  being  naturally  pale, 
though  darkened  by  exposure  to  a  warmer  sun  than 
ours.  His  features  were  somewhat  striking ;  his 
moustache  and  hair  raven  black ;  and  his  eyes,  denied 
the  attributes  of  military  keenness  by  reason  of  the 
largeness  and  darkness  of  their  aspect,  acquired  thereby 
a  softness  of  expression  that  was  in  part  womanly.  His 
mouth  as  far  as  it  could  be  seen  reproduced  this 
characteristic,  which  might  have  been  called  weakness, 
or  goodness,  according  to  the  mental  attitude  of  the 
observer.  It  was  large  but  well  formed,  and  showed 
an  unimpaired  line  of  teeth  within.  His  dress  at 
present  was  a  heather-coloured  rural  suit,  cut  close  to 
his  figure. 

'You  knew  my  cousin.  Jack  Ravensbury?'  he  said 
to  Somerset,  as  they  went  on.  '  Poor  Jack :  he  was  a 
good  fellow.' 

1 72 


DARE   AND    HAVILL 

'  He  was  a  very  good  fellow.' 

'  He  would  have  been  made  a  parson  if  he  had  lived 
— it  was  his  great  wish.  I,  as  his  senior,  and  a  man  of 
the  world  as  I  thought  myself,  used  to  chaff  him  about 
it  when  he  was  a  boy,  and  tell  him  not  to  be  a  milksop, 
but  to  enter  the  army.  But  I  think  Jack  was  right — 
the  parsons  have  the  best  of  it,  I  see  now.' 

'  They  would  hardly  admit  that,'  said  Somerset,  laugh- 
ing.    '  Nor  can  I.' 

'  Nor  I,'  said  the  captain's  sister.  '  See  how  lovely 
you  all  looked  with  your  big  guns  and  uniform  when 
you  entered  Markton  :  and  then  see  how  stupid  the 
parsons  look  by  comparison,  when  they  flock  into  Mark- 
ton  at  a  Visitation.' 

'  Ah,  yes,'  said  De  Stancy, 

"Doubtless  it  is  a  brilliant  masquerade  ; 
But  when  of  the  first  sight  you've  had  your  fill, 
It  palls — at  least  it  does  so  upon  me, 
This  paradise  of  pleasure  and  ennui." 

When  one  is  getting  on  for  forty ; 

"  When  we  have  made  our  love,  and  gamed  our  gaming, 
Dressed,  voted,  shone,  and  maybe,  something  more  ; 
With  dandies  dined,  heard  senators  declaiming  ; 
Seen  beauties  brought  to  market  by  the  score," 

and  so  on,  there  arises  a  strong  desire  for  a  quiet  old- 
fashioned  country  life,  in  which  incessant  movement  is 
not  a  necessary  part  of  the  programme.' 

'  But  you  are  not  forty,  Will  ? '  said  Charlotte. 

'  My  dear,  I  was  thirty-nine  last  January.' 

'  Well,  men  about  here  are  youths  at  that  age.  It 
was  India  used  you  up  so,  when  you  served  in  the  line, 
was  it  not  ?     I  wish  you  had  never  gone  there  ! ' 

'  So  do  I,'  said  De  Stancy  drily.  '  But  I  ought  to 
grow  a  youth  again,  like  the  rest,  now  I  am  in  my 
native  air.' 

173 


A   LAODICEAN 

They  came  to  a  narrow  brook,  not  wider  than  a  man's 
stride,  and  Miss  De  Stancy  halted  on  the  edge. 

'Why,  Lottie,  you  used  to  jump  it  easily  enough,' 
said  her  iDrother.  '  But  we  won't  make  her  do  it  now.' 
He  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  lifted  her  over,  giving  her 
a  gratuitous  ride  for  some  additional  yards,  and  saying, 
'  You  are  not  a  pound  heavier,  Lott,  than  you  were  at 
ten  years  old.  .  .  .  What  do  you  think  of  the  country 
here,  ISIr.  Somerset  ?     Are  you  going  to  stay  long  ?  ' 

'  I  think  very  well  of  it,'  said  Somerset.  '  But  I  leave 
to-morrow  morning,  which  makes  it  necessary  that  I  turn 
back  in  a  minute  or  two  from  walking  with  you.' 

'That's  a  disappointment.  I  had  hoped  you  were 
going  to  finish  out  the  autumn  with  shooting.  There's 
some,  very  fair,  to  be  got  here  on  reasonable  terms,  I've 
just  heard.' 

'  But  you  need  not  hire  any ! '  spoke  up  Charlotte. 
'  Paula  would  let  you  shoot  anything,  I  am  sure.  She 
has  not  been  here  long  enough  to  preserve  much  game, 
and  the  poachers  had  it  all  in  Mr.  Wilkins'  time.  But 
what  there  is  you  might  kill  with  pleasure  to  her.' 

'  No,  thank  you,'  said  De  Stancy  grimly.  '  I  prefer 
to  remain  a  stranger  to  Miss  Power — Miss  Steam-Power, 
she  ought  to  be  called — and  to  all  her  possessions.' 

Charlotte  was  subdued,  and  did  not  insist  further; 
while  Somerset,  before  he  could  feel  himself  able  to 
decide  on  the  mood  in  which  the  gallant  captain's  joke 
at  Paula's  expense  should  be  taken,  wondered  whether 
it  were  a  married  man  or  a  bachelor  who  uttered  it. 

He  had  not  been  able  to  keep  the  question  of  De 
Stancy's  domestic  state  out  of  his  head  from  the  first 
moment  of  seeing  him.  Assuming  De  Stancy  to  be  a 
husband,  he  felt  there  might  be  some  excuse  for  his 
remark;  if  unmarried,  Somerset  liked  the  satire  still 
better ;  in  such  circumstances  there  was  a  relief  in  the 
thought  that  Captain  De  Stancy's  prejudices  might  be 
infinitely  stronger  than  those  of  his  sister  or  father. 

174 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

'  Going  to-morrow,  did  you  say,  Mr.  Somerset  ? ' 
asked  Miss  De  Stancy.  '  Then  will  you  dine  with  us 
to-day?  My  father  is  anxious  that  you  should  do  so. 
before  you  go,  I  am  sorry  there  will  be  only  our  own 
family  present  to  meet  you ;  but  you  can  leave  as  early 
as  you  wish.' 

Her  brother  seconded  the  invitation,  and  Somerset 
promised,  though  his  leisure  for  that  evening  was  short. 
He  was  in  truth  somewhat  inclined  to  like  De  Stancy ; 
for  though  the  captain  had  said  nothing  of  any  value 
either  on  war,  commerce,  science,  or  art,  he  had  seemed 
attractive  to  the  younger  man.  Beyond  the  natural 
interest  a  soldier  has  for  imaginative  minds  in  the  civil 
walks  of  life,  De  Stancy's  occasional  manifestations  of 
iieihwi  vitiz  were  too  poetically  shaped  to  be  repellent. 
Gallantry  combined  in  him  with  a  sort  of  ascetic  self- 
repression  in  a  way  that  was  curious.  He  was  a  dozen 
years  older  than  Somerset:  his 'life  had  been  passed  in 
grooves  remote  from  those  of  Somerset's  own  life ;  and 
the  latter  decided  that  he  would  like  to  meet  the  artillery 
officer  again. 

Bidding  them  a  temporary  farewell,  he  went  away  to 
Markton  by  a  shorter  path  than  that  pursued  by  the  De 
Stancys,  and  after  spending  the  remainder  of  the  after- 
noon preparing  for  departure,  he  sallied  forth  just  before 
the  dinner-hour  towards  the  suburban  villa. 

He  had  become  yet  more  curious  whether  a  Mrs.  De 
Stancy  existed  :  if  there  were  one  he  would  probably 
see  her  to-night.  He  had  an  irrepressible  hope  that 
there  might  be  such  a  lady.  On  entering  the  drawing- 
room  only  the  father,  son,  and  daughter  were  assembled. 
Somerset  fell  into  talk  with  Charlotte  during  the  few 
minutes  before  dinner,  and  his  thought  found  its  way 
out. 

'  There  is  no  Mrs.  De  Stancy  ?  '  he  said  in  an  under- 
tone. 

'  None,'  she  said ;  '  my  brother  is  a  bachelor.' 

275 


A   LAODICEAN 

The  dinner  having  been  fixed  at  an  early  hour  to 
suit  Somerset,  they  had  returned  to  the  drawing-room 
at  eight  o'clock.  About  nine  he  was  aiming  to  get 
away. 

'  You  are  not  off  yet  ?  '  said  the  captain. 

'There  would  have  been  no  hurry,'  said  Somerset, 
'  had  I  not  just  remembered  that  I  have  left  one  thing 
undone  which  I  want  to  attend  to  before  my  departure. 
I  want  to  see  the  chief  constable  to-night.' 

'  Cunningham  Haze  ? — he  is  the  very  man  I  too  want 
to  see.  But  he  went  out  of  town  this  afternoon,  and  I 
hardly  think  you  will  see  him  to-night.  His  return  has 
been  delayed.' 

'  Then  the  matter  must  wait.' 

'  I  have  left  word  at  his  house  asking  him  to  call  here 
if  he  gets  home  before  half-past  ten ;  but  at  any  rate  I 
shall  see  him  to-morrow  morning.  Can  I  do  anything 
for  you,  since  you  are  leaving  early  ?  ' 

Somerset  replied  that  the  business  was  of  no  great 
importance,  and  briefly  explained  the  suspected  intrusion 
into  his  studio ;  that  he  had  with  him  a  photograph  of 
the  suspected  young  man.  '  If  it  is  a  mistake,'  added 
Somerset,  '  I  should  regret  putting  my  draughtsman's 
portrait  into  the  hands  of  the  police,  since  it  might 
injure  his  character ;  indeed,  it  would  be  unfair  to  him. 
So  I  wish  to  keep  the  likeness  in  my  own  hands,  and 
merely  to  show  it  to  Mr.  Haze  :  that's  why  I  prefer  not 
to  send  it.' 

'  My  matter  with  Haze  is  that  the  barrack  furniture 
does  not  correspond  with  the  inventories.  If  you  like, 
I'll  ask  your  question  at  the  same  time  with  pleasure.' 

Thereupon  Somerset  gave  Captain  De  Stancy  an  un- 
fastened envelope  containing  the  portrait,  asking  him 
to  destroy  it  if  the  constable  should  declare  it  not  to 
correspond  with  the  face  that  met  his  eye  at  the  window. 
Soon  after,  Somerset  took  his  leave  of  the  household. 
He  had   not   been  absent  ten  minutes  when  other 

176 


DARE  AND    HAVILL 

wheels  were  heard  on  the  gravel  without,  and  the  ser\^ant 
announced  Mr.  Cunningham  Haze,  who  had  returned 
earlier  than  he  had  expected,  and  had  called  as  re- 
quested. 

They  went  into  the  dining-room  to  discuss  their 
business.  ^Mien  the  barrack  matter  had  been  arranged 
De  Stancy  said,  '  I  have  a  little  commission  to  execute 
for  my  friend  Mr.  Somerset.  I  am  to  ask  you  if  this 
portrait  of  the  person  he  suspects  of  unlawfully  entering 
his  room  is  like  the  man  you  saw  there  ?  ' 

The  speaker  was  seated  on  one  side  of  the  dining- 
table  and  Mr.  Haze  on  the  other.  As  he  spoke  De 
Stancy  pulled  the  envelope  from  his  pocket,  and  half 
drew  out  the  photograph,  which  he  had  not  as  yet  looked 
at,  to  hand  it  over  to  the  constable.  In  the  act  his 
eye  fell  upon  the  portrait,  with  its  uncertain  expression 
of  age,  assured  look,  and  hair  worn  in  a  fringe  like  a 
girl's. 

Captain  De  Stancy's  face  became  strained,  and  he 
leant  back  in  his  chair,  having  previously  had  sufficient 
power  over  himself  to  close  the  envelope  and  return  it 
to  his  pocket. 

'  Good  heavens,  you  are  ill.  Captain  De  Stancy  ? ' 
said  the  chief  constable. 

'  It  was  only  momentary','  said  De  Stancy ;  '  better  in 
a  minute — a  glass  of  water  will  put  me  right.' 

Mr.  Haze  got  hini  a  glass  of  water  from  the  side- 
board. 

'These  spasms  occasionally  overtake  me,'  said  De 
Stancy  when  he  had  drunk.  '  I  am  already  better. 
What  were  we  saying  ?  O,  this  affair  of  Mr.  Somer- 
set's. I  find  that  this  envelope  is  not  the  right  one.' 
He  ostensibly  searched  his  pocket  again.  '  I  must  have 
mislaid  it,'  he  continued,  rising.  '  I'll  be  with  you 
again  in  a  moment.' 

De  Stancy  went  into  the  room  adjoining,  opened  an 
album  of  portraits  that  lay  on  the  table,  and  selected 

177  M 


A  LAODICEAN 

one  of  a  young  man  quite  unknown  to  him,  whose  age 
was  somewhat  akin  to  Dare's,  but  who  in  no  other 
attribute  resembled  him. 

De  Stancy  placed  this  picture  in  the  original  enve- 
lope, and  returned  with  it  to  the  chief  constable,  saying 
he  had  found  it  at  last. 

'  Thank  you,  thank  you,'  said  Cunningham  Haze, 
looking  it  over.  '  Ah — I  perceive  it  is  not  what  I 
expected  to  see.      '  Mr.  Somerset  was  mistaken.' 

When  the  chief  constable  had  left  the  house.  Captain 
De  Stancy  shut  the  door  and  drew  out  the  original 
photograph.  As  he  looked  at  the  transcript  of  Dare's 
features  he  was  moved  by  a  painful  agitation,  till  re- 
calling himself  to  the  present,  he  carefully  put  the 
portrait  into  the  hre. 

During  the  following  days  Captain  De  Stancy's 
manner  on  the  roads,  in  the  streets,  and  at  barracks, 
was  that  of  Crusoe  after  seeing  the  print  of  a  man's 
foot  on  the  sand. 


DARE  AND   HAVILL 


V 

Anybody  who  had  closely  considered  Dare  at  this 
time  would  have  discovered  that,  shortly  after  the 
arrival  of  the  Royal  Horse  Artillery  at  Markton  Bar- 
racks, he  gave  up  his  room  at  the  inn  at  Sleeping- 
Green  and  took  permanent  lodgings  over  a  broker's 
shop  in  the  town  above-mentioned.  The  peculiarity  of 
the  rooms  was  that  they  commanded  a  view  lengthwise 
of  the  barrack  lane  along  which  any  soldier,  in  the 
natural  course  of  things,  v/ould  pass  either  to  enter 
the  town,  to  call  at  Myrde  Villa,  or  to  go  to  Stancy 
Castle. 

Dare  seemed  to  act  as  if  there  were  plenty  of  time 
for  his  business.  Some  few  days  had  slipped  by  when, 
perceiving  Captain  De  Stancy  walk  past  his  windov/ 
and  into  the  town.  Dare  took  his  hat  and  cane,  and 
followed  in  the  same  direction.  When  he  was  about 
fifty  yards  short  of  Myrtle  Villa  on  the  other  side  of 
the  town  he  saw  De  Stancy  enter  its  gate. 

Dare  mounted  a  stile  beside  the  highway  and 
patiently  waited.  In  about  twenty  minutes  De  Stancy 
came  out  again  and  turned  back  in  the  direction  of  the 
town,  till  Dare  was  revealed  to  him  on  his  left  hand. 
When  De  Stancy  recognized  the  youth  he  was  visibly 
agitated,  though  apparently  not  surprised.  Standing 
still  a  moment  he  dropped  his  glance  upon  the  ground, 

179 


A   LAODICEAN 

and  then  came  forward  to  Dare,  who  having  aUghted 
from  the  stile  stood  before  the  captain  with  a  smile. 

'  My  dear  lad ! '  said  De  Stancy,  much  moved  by 
recollections.  He  held  Dare's  hand  for  a  moment  in 
both  his  own,  and  turned  askance. 

'  You  are  not  astonished,'  said  Dare,  still  retaining 
his  smile,  as  if  to  his  mind  there  were  something  comic 
in  the  situation. 

'  I  knew  you  were  somewhere  near.  Where  do  you 
come  from  ? ' 

'  From  going  to  and  fro  in  the  earth,  and  walking  up 
and  down  in  it,  as  Satan  said  to  his  Maker. — South- 
ampton last,  in  common  speech.' 

'  Have  you  come  here  to  see  me  ? ' 

'  Entirely.  I  divined  that  your  next  quarters  would 
be  Markton,  the  previous  batteries  that  were  at  your 
station  having  come  on  here.  I  have  wanted  to  see 
you  badly.' 

'  You  have  ? ' 

'I  am  rather  out  of  cash.  I  have  been  knocking 
about  a  good  deal  since  you  last  heard  from  me.' 

'  I  will  do  what  I  can  again.' 

'Thanks,  captain.' 

'But,  Willy,  I  am  afraid  it  will  not  be  much  at 
present.     You  know  I  am  as  poor  as  a  mouse.' 

'  But  such  as  it  is,  could  you  write  a  cheque  for  it 
now? ' 

'  I  will  send  it  to  you  from  the  barracks.' 

'  I  have  a  better  plan.  By  getting  over  this  stile  we 
could  go  round  at  the  back  of  the  villas  to  Sleeping- 
Green  Church.  There  is  always  a  pen-and-ink  in  the 
vestry,  and  we  can  have  a  nice  talk  on  the  way.  It 
would  be  unwise  for  me  to  appear  at  the  barracks  just 
now.' 

'  That's  true.' 

De  Stancy  sighed,  and  they  were  about  to  walk  across 
the  fields  together.     '  No,'  said  Dare,  suddenly  stopping  : 

i8o 


DARE   AND    HAVILL 

'  my  plans  make  it  imperative  that  we  should  not  run 
the  risk  of  being  seen  in  each  other's  company  for  long. 
Walk  on,  and  I  will  follow.  You  can  stroll  into  the 
churchyard,  and  move  about  as  if  you  were  ruminating 
on  the  epitaphs.  There  are  some  with  excellent  morals. 
I'll  enter  by  the  other  gate,  and  we  can  meet  easily  in 
the  vestry-room.' 

De  Stancy  looked  gloomy,  and  was  on  the  point  of 
acquiescing  when  he  turned  back  and  said,  '  Why  should 
your  photograph  be  shown  to  the  chief  constable  ?  ' 

'  By  whom  ?  ' 

'  Somerset  the  architect.  He  suspects  your  having 
broken  into  his  office  or  something  of  the  sort.'  De 
Stancy  briefly  related  what  Somerset  had  explained  to  him 
at  the  dinner-table. 

'  It  was  merely  diamond  cut  diamond  between  us,  on 
an  architectural  matter,'  murmured  Dare.  '  Ho  !  and  he 
suspects  :  and  that's  his  remedy  ! ' 

'  I  hope  this  is  nothing  serious  ? '  asked  De  Stancy 
gravely. 

'  I  peeped  at  his  drawing — that's  all.  But  since  he 
chooses  to  make  that  use  of  my  photograph,  which  I 
gave  him  in  friendship,  I'll  make  use  of  his  in  a  way  he 
Uttle  dreams  of.     Well  now,  let's  on.' 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  they  met  in  the  vestry  of 
the  church  at  Sleeping-Green. 

'  I  have  only  just  transferred  my  account  to  the  bank 
here,'  said  De  Stancy,  as  he  took  out  his  cheque-book, 
'  and  it  will  be  more  convenient  to  me  at  present  to 
draw  but  a  small  sum.  I  will  make  up  the  balance 
afterwards.' 

When  he  had  written  it  Dare  glanced  over  the  paper 
and  said  ruefully,  '  It  is  small,  dad.  Well,  there  is  all 
the  more  reason  why  I  should  broach  my  scheme,  with 
a  view  to  making  such  documents  larger  in  the  future.' 

'  I  shall  l)e  glad  to  hear  of  any  such  scheme,'  an- 
swered De  Stancy,  with  a  languid  attempt  at  jocularity. 

i8i 


A   LAODICEAN 

'Then  here  it  is.  The  plan  I  have  arranged  for  you 
is  of  the  nature  of  a  marriage.' 

'  You  are  very  kind  ! '  said  De  Stancy,  agape. 

'  The  lady's  name  is  Miss  Paula  Power,  who,  as  you 
may  have  heard  since  your  arrival,  is  in  absolute  posses- 
sion of  her  father's  property  and  estates,  including  Stancy 
Castle.  As  soon  as  I  heard  of  her  I  saw  what  a  mar- 
vellous match  it  would  be  for  you,  and  your  family  ;  it 
would  make  a  man  of  you,  in  short,  and  I  have  set  my 
mind  upon  your  putting  no  objection  in  the  way  of  its 
accomplishment.' 

'  But,  Willy,  it  seems  to  me  that,  of  us  two,  it  is  you 
who  exercise  paternal  authority  ?  ' 

'  True,  it  is  for  your  good.     Let  me  do  it.' 

'  Well,  one  must  be  indulgent  under  the  circumstances, 
I  suppose.  .  .  ,  But,'  added  De  Stancy  simply,  '  Willy, 
I  —  don't  want  to  marry,  you  know.  I  have  lately 
thought  that  some  day  we  may  be  able  to  live  together, 
you  and  I :  go  off  to  America  or  New  Zealand,  where 
we  are  not  known,  and  there  lead  a  quiet,  pastoral  life, 
defying  social  rules  and  troublesome  observances.' 

'  I  can't  hear  of  it,  captain,'  replied  Dare  reprovingly. 
'  I  am  what  events  have  made  me,  and  having  fixed  my 
mind  upon  getting  you  settled  in  life  by  this  marriage,  I 
have  put  things  in  train  for  it  at  an  immense  trouble  to 
myself.  If  you  had  thought  over  it  o'  nights  as  much 
as  I  have,  you  would  not  say  nay.' 

'  But  I  ought  to  have  married  your  mother  if  any- 
body. And  as  I  have  not  married  her,  the  least  I  can 
do  in  respect  to  her  is  to  marry  no  other  woman.' 

'  You  have  some  sort  of  duty  to  me,  have  you  not. 
Captain  De  Stancy  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  Willy,  I  admit  that  I  have,'  the  elder  replied 
reflectively.  '  And  I  don't  think  I  have  failed  in  it  thus 
far?' 

'  This  will  be  the  crowning  proof.  Paternal  affection, 
family  pride,  the  noble  instincts  to  reinstate  yourself  in 

182 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

the  castle  of  your  ancestors,  all  demand  the  step.  And 
when  you  have  seen  the  lady  !  She  has  the  figure  and 
motions  of  a  sylph,  the  face  of  an  angel,  the  eye  of  love 
itself.  What  a  sight  she  is  crossing  the  lawn  on  a  sunny 
afternoon,  or  gliding  airily  along  the  corridors  of  the 
old  place  the  De  Stancys  knew  so  well  !  Her  lips  are 
the  softest,  reddest,  most  distracting  things  you  ever 
saw.  Her  hair  is  as  soft  as  silk,  and  of  the  rarest, 
tenderest  brown.' 

The  captain  moved  uneasily.  '  Don't  take  the 
trouble  to  say  more,  Willy,'  he  observed.  '  You  know 
how  I  am.  My  cursed  susceptibility  to  these  matters 
has  already  wasted  years  of  my  life,  and  I  don't  want 
to  make  myself  a  fool  about  her  too.' 

'  You  must  see  her.' 

'  No,  don't  let  me  see  her,'  De  Stancy  expostulated. 
'  If  she  is  only  half  so  good-looking  as  you  say,  she  will 
drag  me  at  her  heels  like  a  blind  Samson.  You  are 
a  mere  youth  as  yet,  but  I  may  tell  you  that  the  mis- 
fortune of  never  having  been  my  own  master  where  a 
beautiful  face  was  concerned  obliges  me  to  be  cautious 
if  I  would  preserve  my  peace  of  mind.' 

'  Well,  to  my  mind,  Captain  De  Stancy,  your  objec- 
tions seem  trivial.     Are  those  all  ?  ' 

'  They  are  all  I  care  to  mention  just  now  to  you.' 

'  Captain  !  can  there  be  secrets  between  us  ?  ' 

De  Stancy  paused  and  looked  at  the  lad  as  if  his 
heart  wished  to  confess  what  his  judgment  feared  to 
tell.  'There  should  not  be — on  this  point,'  he  mur- 
mured. 

'  Then  tell  me — why  do  you  so  much  object  to  her  ?  ' 

'  I  once  vowed  a  vow.' 

'  A  vow ! '  said  Dare,  rather  disconcerted. 

'  A  vow  of  infinite  solemnity.  I  must  tell  you  from 
the  beginning  ;  perhaps  you  are  old  enough  to  hear  it 
now,  though  you  have  been  too  young  before.  Your 
mother's  life  ended  in  much  sorrow,  and  it  was  occa- 

183 


A   LAODICEAN 

sioned  entirely  by  me.  In  my  regret  for  the  wrong 
done  her  I  swore  to  her  that  though  she  had  not  been 
my  wife,  no  other  woman  should  stand  in  that  relation- 
ship to  me  ;  and  this  to  her  was  a  sort  of  comfort. 
When  she  was  dead  my  knowledge  of  my  own  plaguy 
impressionableness,  which  seemed  to  be  ineradicable — 
as  it  seems  still — led  me  to  think  what  safeguards  I 
could  set  over  myself  with  a  view  to  keeping  my 
promise  to  live  a  life  of  celibacy;  and  among  other 
things  I  determined  to  forswear  the  society,  and  if 
possible  the  sight,  of  women  young  and  attractive,  as 
far  as  I  had  the  power  to  do.' 

'  It  is  not  so  easy  to  avoid  the  sight  of  a  beautiful 
woman  if  she  crosses  your  path,  I  should  think  ?  ' 

'  It  is  not  easy ;  but  it  is  possible.' 

'  How  ? ' 

'  By  directing  your  attention  another  way.' 

*  But  do  you  mean  to  say,  captain,  that  you  can  be 
in  a  room  with  a  pretty  woman  who  speaks  to  you,  and 
not  look  at  her  ?  ' 

'  I  do  :  though  mere  looking  has  less  to  do  with  it 
than  mental  attentiveness — allowing  your  thoughts  to 
flow  out  in  her  direction — to  comprehend  her  image.' 

'  But  it  would  be  considered  very  impolite  not  to 
look  at  the  woman  or  comprehend  her  image  ? ' 

'  It  would,  and  is.  I  am  considered  the  most 
impolite  officer  in  the  service.  I  have  been  nicknamed 
the  man  with  the  averted  eyes — the  man  with  the 
detestable  habit — the  man  who  greets  you  with  his 
shoulder,  and  so  on.  Ninety-and-nine  fair  women  at 
the  present  moment  hate  me  like  poison  and  death 
for  having  persistently  refused  to  plumb  the  depths  of 
their  offered  eyes.' 

'  How  can  you  do  it,  who  are  by  nature  courteous  ?  ' 

'  I  cannot  always — I  break  down  sometimes.  But, 
upon  the  whole,  recollection  holds  me  to  it :  dread  of 
a  lapse.      Nothing  is  so  potent  as  fear  well  maintained.' 

184 


DARE    AND   HAVILL 

De  Stancy  narrated  these  details  in  a  grave  medita- 
tative  tone  with  his  eyes  on  the  wall,  as  if  he  were 
scarcely  conscious  of  a  listener. 

'  But  haven't  you  reckless  moments,  captain  ? — 
when  you  have  taken  a  little  more  wine  than  usual, 
for  instance  ? ' 

'  I  don't  take  wine.' 

*  O,  you  are  a  teetotaller  ?  ' 

'  Not  a  pledged  one — but  I  don't  touch  alcohol 
unless  I  get  wet,  or  anything  of  that  sort.' 

'  Don't  you  sometimes  forget  this  vow  of  yours  to 
my  mother  ?  ' 

'  No,  I  wear  a  reminder.' 

'  What  is  that  like  ?  ' 

De  Stancy  held  up  his  left  hand,  on  the  third  finger 
of  which  appeared  an  iron  ring. 

Dare  surveyed  it,  saying,  '  Yes,  I  have  seen  that 
before,  though  I  never  knew  why  you  wore  it.  Well, 
I  wear  a  reminder  also,  but  of  a  different  sort.' 

He  threw  open  his  shirt-front,  and  revealed  tattooed 
on  his  breast  the  letters  DE  STANCY ;  the  same 
marks  which  Havill  had  seen  in  the  bedroom  by  the 
light  of  the  moon. 

The  captain  rather  winced  at  the  sight.  '  Well,  well,' 
he  said  hastily,  '  that's  enough.  .  .  .  Now,  at  any  rate, 
you  understand  my  objection  to  know  Miss  Power.' 

'  But,  captain,'  said  the  lad  coaxingly,  as  he  fastened 
his  shirt ;  '  you  forget  me  and  the  good  you  may  do  me 
by  marrying  ?  Surely  that's  a  sufficient  reason  for  a 
change  of  sentiment.  This  inexperienced  sweet  creature 
owns  the  castle  and  estate  which  bears  your  name,  even 
to  the  furniture  and  pictures.  She  is  the  possessor  of 
at  least  forty  thousand  a  year — how  much  more  I 
cannot  say — while,  buried  here  in  Outer  Wessex,  she 
lives  at  the  rate  of  twelve  hundred  in  her  simplicity.' 

'  It  is  very  good  of  you  to  set  this  before  me.  But  I 
prefer  to  go  on  as  I  am  going.' 

185 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  Well,  I  won't  bore  you  any  more  with  her  to-day. 
A  monk  m  regimentals  ! — 'tis  strange.'  Dare  arose  and 
was  about  to  open  the  door,  when,  looking  through  the 
window,  Captain  De  Stancy  said,  'Stop.'  He  had 
perceived  his  father,  Sir  William  De  Stancy,  walking 
among  the  tombstones  without. 

'Yes,  indeed,'  said  Dare,  turning  the  key  in  the 
door.  '  It  would  look  strange  if  he  were  to  find  us 
here.' 

As  the  old  man  seemed  indisposed  to  leave  the 
churchyard  just  yet  they  sat  down  again. 

'What  a  capital  card-table  this  green  cloth  would 
make,'  said  Dare,  as  they  waited.  '  You  play,  captain, 
I  suppose  ? ' 

'  Very  seldom.' 

'  The  same  with  me.     But  as  I  enjoy  a  hand  of  cards 
with  a  friend,   I  don't  go  unprovided.'     Saying  which, 
Dare  drew  a  pack  from  the  tail  of  his  coat.     '  Shall  we 
while  away  this  leisure  with  the  witching  things  ? ' 
'  Really,  I'd  rather  not.' 

'  But,'  coaxed  the  young  man,  '  I  am  in  the  humour 
for  it ;  so  don't  be  unkind  ! ' 

'  But,  Willy,  why  do  you  care  for  these  things  ? 
Cards  are  harmless  enough  in  their  way;  but  I  don't 
like  to  see  you  carrying  them  in  your  pocket.  It  isn't 
good  for  you.' 

'  It  was  by  the  merest  chance  I  had  them.  Now 
come,  just  one  hand,  since  we  are  prisoners.  I  want  to 
show  you  how  nicely  I  can  play.  I  won't  corrupt  you  ! ' 
'  Of  course  not,'  said  De  Stancy,  as  if  ashamed  of 
what  his  objection  implied.  '  You  are  not  corrupt 
enough  yourself  to  do  that,  I  should  hope.' 

The  cards  were  dealt  and  they  began  to  play — 
Captain  De  Stancy  abstractedly,  and  with  his  eyes 
mostly  straying  out  of  the  window  upon  the  large  yew, 
whose  boughs  as  they  moved  were  distorted  by  the  old 
green  window-panes. 

i86 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

'  It  is  better  than  doing  nothing,'  said  Dare  cheer- 
fully, as  the  game  went  on.    '  I  hope  you  don't  dislike  it?' 

'  Not  if  it  pleases  you,'  said  De  Stancy  listlessly. 

'  And  the  consecration  of  this  place  does  not  extend 
further  than  the  aisle  wall.' 

'  Doesn't  it  ? '  said  De  Stancy,  as  he  mechanically 
played  out  his  cards.  'What  became  of  that  box  of 
books  I  sent  you  with  my  last  cheque  ?  ' 

'  Well,  as  I  hadn't  time  to  read  them,  and  as  I  knew 
you  would  not  like  them  to  be  wasted,  I  sold  them  to  a 
bloke  who  peruses  them  from  morning  till  night.  ^Vh, 
now  you  have  lost  a  fiver  altogether — how  queer ! 
^^^e'll  double  the  stakes.  So,  as  I  was  saying,  just  at 
the  time  the  books  came  I  got  an  inkling  of  this 
important  business,  and  literature  went  to  the  wall.' 

'  Important  business — what  ?  ' 

'  The  capture  of  this  lady,  to  be  sure.' 

De  Stancy  sighed  impatiently.  '  I  wish  you  were 
less  calculating,  and  had  more  of  the  impulse  natural  to 
your  years  ! ' 

'  Game — by  Jove !  You  have  lost  again,  captain. 
That  makes  —  let  me  see  —  nine  pounds  fifteen  to 
square  us.' 

'  I  owe  you  that  ?  '  said  De  Stancy,  startled.  '  It  is 
more  than  I  have  in  cash.     I  must  write  another  cheque.' 

'  Never  mind.  Make  it  payable  to  yourself,  and  our 
connection  will  be  quite  unsuspected.' 

Captain  De  Stancy  did  as  requested,  and  rose  from 
his  seat.  Sir  William,  though  further  off,  was  still  in 
the  churchyard. 

'  How  can  you  hesitate  for  a  moment  about  this 
girl  ? '  said  Dare,  pointing  to  the  bent  figure  of  the  old 
man.  '  Think  of  the  satisfaction  it  would  be  to  him  to 
see  his  son  within  the  family  walls  again.  It  should  be 
a  religion  with  you  to  compass  such  a  legitimate  end  as 
this.' 

'  Well,  well,  I'll  think  of  it,'  said  the  captain,  with  an 

187 


A   LAODICEAN 

impatient   laugh.       '  You  are   quite    a   Mephistopheles, 
Will — I  say  it  to  my  sorrow  ! ' 

'  Would  that  I  were  in  your  place.' 

'  Would  that  you  were  !  Fifteen  years  ago  I  might 
have  called  the  chance  a  magnificent  one.' 

'  But  you  are  a  young  man  still,  and  you  look  younger 
than  you  are.  Nobody  knows  our  relationship,  and  I 
am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  divulge  it.  Of  course,  if 
through  me  you  reclaim  this  splendid  possession,  I 
should  leave  it  to  your  feelings  what  you  would  do  for 
me.' 

Sir  William  had  by  this  time  cleared  out  of  the 
churchyard,  and  the  pair  emerged  from  the  vestry  and 
departed.  Proceeding  towards  Markton  by  the  same  by- 
path, they  presently  came  to  an  eminence  covered  with 
bushes  of  blackthorn,  and  tufts  of  yellowing  fern.  From 
this  point  a  good  view  of  the  woods  and  glades  about 
Stancy  Castle  could  be  obtained.  Dare  stood  still  on 
the  top  and  stretched  out  his  finger ;  the  captain's  eye 
followed  the  direction,  and  he  saw  above  the  many-hued 
foliage  in  the  middle  distance  the  towering  keep  of 
Paula's  castle. 

'  That's  the  goal  of  your  ambition,  captain — ambition 
do  I  say?— most  righteous  and  dutiful  endeavour! 
How  the  hoary  shape  catches  the  sunlight — it  is  the 
raison  d'etre  of  the  landscape,  and  its  possession  is 
coveted  by  a  thousand  hearts.  Surely  it  is  an  hereditary 
desire  of  yours  ?  You  must  make  a  point  of  returning 
to  it,  and  appearing  in  the  map  of  the  future  as  in  that 
of  the  past.  I  delight  in  this  work  of  encouraging  you, 
and  pushing  you  forward  towards  your  own.  You  are 
really  very  clever,  you  know,  but — I  say  it  with  respect 
— how  comes  it  that  you  want  so  much  waking  up  ? ' 

'  Because  I  know  the  day  is  not  so  bright  as  it  seems, 
my  boy.  However,  you  make  a  little  mistake.  If  I 
care  for  anything  on  earth,  I  do  care  for  that  old  for- 
tress of  my  forefathers.     I  respect  so  little  among  the 

i88 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

living  that  all  my  reverence  is  for  my  own  dead. 
But  manoeu\Ting,  even  for  my  own,  as  you  call  it,  is 
not  in  my  line.  It  is  distasteful — it  is  positively  hateful 
to  me.' 

'  Well,  well,  let  it  stand  thus  for  the  present.  But 
will  you  refuse  me  one  little  request — merely  to  see  her  ? 
I'll  contrive  it  so  that  she  may  not  see  you.  Don't 
refuse  me,  it  is  the  one  thing  I  ask,  and  I  shall  think  it 
hard  if  you  deny  me.' 

'  O  Will ! '  said  the  captain  wearily.  '  Why  will  you 
plead  so  ?  No — even  though  your  mind  is  particularly 
set  upon  it,  I  cannot  see  her,  or  bestow  a  thought  upon 
her,  much  as  I  should  like  to  gratify  you.' 


A   LAODICEAN 


VI 

When  they  had  parted  Dare  walked  along  towards 
Markton  with  resolve  on  his  mouth  and  an  unscrupulous 
light  in  his  prominent  black  eye.  Could  any  person  who 
had  heard  the  previous  conversation  have  seen  him  now, 
he  would  have  found  httle  difficulty  in  divining  that, 
notwithstanding  De  Stancy's  obduracy,  the  reinstation 
of  Captain  De  Stancy  in  the  castle,  and  the  possible 
legitimation  and  enrichment  of  himself,  was  still  the 
dream  of  his  brain.  Even  should  any  legal  settlement 
or  offspring  intervene  to  nip  the  extreme  development 
of  his  projects,  there  was  abundant  opportunity  for  his 
glorification.  Two  conditions  were  imperative.  De 
Stancy  must  see  Paula  before  Somerset's  return.  And 
it  was  necessary  to  have  help  from  Havill,  even  if  it 
involved  letting  him  know  all. 

Whether  Havill  already  knew  all  was  a  nice  question 
for  Mr.  Dare's  luminous  mind.  Havill  had  had  oppor- 
tunities of  reading  his  secret,  particularly  on  the  night 
they  occupied  the  same  room.  If  so,  by  revealing  it  to 
Paula,  Havill  might  utterly  blast  his  project  for  the 
marriage.  Havill,  then,  was  at  all  risks  to  be  retained 
as  an  ally. 

Yet  Dare  would  have  preferred  a  stronger  check  upon 
his  confederate  than  was  afforded  by  his  own  knowledge 
of  that  anonymous  letter  and  the  competition  trick.     For 

190 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

were  the  competition  lost  to  him,  Havill  would  have  no 
further  interest  in  conciliating  Miss  Power;  would  as 
soon  as  not  let  her  know  the  secret  of  De  Stancy's 
relation  to  him. 

Fortune  as  usual  helped  him  in  his  dilemma.  Enter- 
ing Havill's  office,  Dare  found  him  sitting  there  ;  but 
the  drawings  had  all  disappeared  from  the  boards.  The 
architect  held  an  open  letter  in  his  hand. 

'  Well,  what  news  ?  '  said  Dare. 

'  Miss  Power  has  returned  to  the  castle,  Somerset  is 
detained  in  London,  and  the  competition  is  decided,' 
said  Havill,  with  a  glance  of  quiet  dubiousness. 

'  And  you  have  won  it  ?  ' 

'  No.  We  are  bracketed^ — it's  a  tie.  The  judges 
say  there  is  no  choice  between  the  designs — that  they 
are  singularly  equal  and  singularly  good.  That  she 
would  do  well  to  adopt  either.  Signed  So-and-So, 
Fellows  of  the  Royal  Institute  of  British  Architects. 
The  result  is  that  she  will  employ  which  she  personally 
likes  best.  It  is  as  if  I  had  spun  a  sovereign  in  the 
air  and  it  had  alighted  on  its  edge.  The  least  false 
movement  vnll  make  it  tails  ;  the  least  wise  movement 
heads.' 

'  Singularly  equal.  Well,  we  owe  that  to  our  noc- 
turnal visit,  which  must  not  be  known.' 

'  O  Lord,  no  ! '  said  Havill  apprehensively. 

Dare  felt  secure  of  him  at  those  words.  Havill 
had  much  at  stake ;  the  slightest  rumour  of  his  trick 
in  bringing  about  the  competition  would  be  fatal  to 
Havill's  reputation. 

'  The  permanent  absence  of  Somerset  then  is  desir- 
able architecturally  on  your  account,  matrimonially  on 
mine.' 

'  Matrimonially  ?  By  the  way — who  was  that  captain 
you  pointed  out  to  me  when  the  artillery  entered  the 
town  ? ' 

'  Captain  De  Stancy — son  of  Sir  William  De  Stancy. 

I  (J  I 


A   LAODICEAN 

He  s  the  husband.  O  you  needn't  look  incredulous  : 
it  is  practicable;  but  we  won't  argue  that.  In  the  first 
place  I  want  him  to  see  her,  and  to  see  her  in  the 
most  love-kindling,  passion-begetting  circumstances  that 
can  be  thought  of.  And  he  must  see  her  surreptitiously, 
for  he  refuses  to  meet  her.' 

'  Let  him  see  her  going  to  church  or  chapel  ? ' 

Dare  shook  his  head. 

'  Driving  out  ?  ' 

'  Common-place ! ' 

'  Walking  in  the  gardens  ?  ' 

'  Ditto.' 

'  At  her  toilet  ?  ' 

'  Ah — if  it  were  possible  ! ' 

'  Which  it  hardly  is.  Well,  you  had  better  think  it 
over  and  make  inquiries  about  her  habits,  and  as  to 
when  she  is  in  a  favourable  aspect  for  observation,  as 
the  almanacs  say.' 

Shortly  afterwards  Dare  took  his  leave.  In  the 
evening  he  made  it  his  business  to  sit  smoking  on  the 
bole  of  a  tree  which  commanded  a  view  of  the  upper 
ward  of  the  castle,  and  also  of  the  old  postern-gate,  now 
enlarged  and  used  as  a  tradesmen's  entrance.  It  was 
half-past  six  o'clock ;  the  dressing-bell  rang,  and  Dare 
saw  a  light-footed  young  woman  hasten  at  the  sound 
across  the  ward  from  the  servants'  quarter.  A  light 
appeared  in  a  chamber  which  he  knew  to  be  Paula's 
dressing-room  ;  and  there  it  remained  half-an-hour,  a 
shadow  passing  and  repassing  on  the  blind  in  the  style 
of  head-dress  worn  by  the  girl  he  had  previously  seen. 
The  dinner-bell  sounded  and  the  light  went  out. 

As  yet  it  was  scarcely  dark  out  of  doors,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  Dare  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the 
same  woman  cross  the  ward  and  emerge  upon  the  slope 
without.  This  time  she  was  bonneted,  and  carried  a 
little  basket  in  her  hand.  A  nearer  view  showed  her 
to  be,  as  he  had  expected,  Milly  Birch,  Paula's  maid, 

192 


DARE   AND    HAVILL 

who  had  friends  living  in  Markton,  whom  she  was  in 
the  habit  of  visiting  almost  every  evening  during  the 
three  hours  of  leisure  which  intervened  between  Paula's 
retirement  from  the  dressing-room  and  return  thither 
at  ten  o'clock.  When  the  young  woman  had  descended 
the  road  and  passed  into  the  large  drive,  Dare  rose  and 
followed  her. 

'  O,  it  is  you,  Miss  Birch,'  said  Dare,  on  overtaking 
her.  '  I  am  glad  to  have  the  pleasure  of  walking  by 
your  side.' 

'  Yes,  sir.  O  it's  Mr.  Dare.  We  don't  see  you  at 
the  castle  now,  sir.' 

'  No.  And  do  you  get  a  walk  like  this  every  evening 
when  the  others  are  at  their  busiest  ? ' 

'  Almost  every  evening ;  that's  the  one  return  to  the 
poor  lady's  maid  for  losing  her  leisure  when  the  others 
get  it — in  the  absence  of  the  family  from  home.' 

'  Is  Miss  Power  a  hard  mistress  ?  ' 

'No.' 

'  Rather  fanciful  than  hard,  I  presume  ? ' 

'Just  so,  sir.' 

'  And  she  likes  to  appear  to  advantage,  no  doubt.' 

'  I  suppose  so,'  said  Milly,  laughing.     '  We  all  do.' 

'  When  does  she  appear  to  the  best  advantage  ? 
When  riding,  or  driving,  or  reading  her  book  ? ' 

'  Not  altogether  then,  if  you  mean  the  very  best.' 

'  Perhaps  it  is  when  she  sits  looking  in  the  glass  at 
herself,  and  you  let  down  her  hair.' 

'  Not  particularly,  to  my  mind.' 

'  When  does  she  to  your  mind  ?  When  dressed  for 
a  dinner-party  or  ball  ?  ' 

'  She's  middling,  then.  P>ut  there  is  one  time  when 
she  looks  nicer  and  cleverer  than  at  any.  It  is  when 
she  is  in  the  gymnasium.' 

'  O — gymnasium  ?  ' 

'  Because  when  she  is  there  she  wears  such  a  pretty 
boy's  costume,  and  is  so  charming  in  her  movements, 

193  N 


A   LAODICEAN 

that  you  think  she  is  a  lovely  young  youth  and  not  a 
girl  at  all.' 

'  When  does  she  go  to  this  gymnasium  ? ' 

'  Not  so  much  as  she  used  to.  Only  on  wet  morn- 
ings now,  when  she  can't  get  out  for  walks  or  drives. 
But  she  used  to  do  it  every  day.' 

'  I  should  like  to  see  her  there.' 

'  Why,  sir  ? ' 

'  I  am  a  poor  artist,  and  can't  afford  models.  To 
see  her  attitudes  would  be  of  great  assistance  to  me  in 
the  art  I  love  so  well.' 

Milly  shook  her  head.  '  She's  very  strict  about  the 
door  being  locked.  If  I  were  to  leave  it  open  she  would 
dismiss  me,  as  I  should  deserve.' 

'  But  consider,  dear  Miss  Birch,  the  advantage  to  a 
poor  artist  the  sight  of  her  would  be :  if  you  could  hold 
the  door  ajar  it  would  be  worth  five  pounds  to  me,  and 
a  good  deal  to  you.' 

'  No,'  said  the  incorruptible  Milly,  shaking  her  head. 
'  Besides,  I  don't  always  go  there  with  her.  O  no,  I 
couldn't ! ' 

Milly  remained  so  firm  at  this  point  that  Dare  said 
no  more. 

When  he  had  left  her  he  returned  to  the  castle 
grounds,  and  though  there  was  not  much  light  he  had 
no  difficulty  in  discovering  the  gymnasium,  the  outside 
of  which  he  had  observed  before,  without  thinking  to 
inquire  its  purpose.  Like  the  erections  in  other  parts 
of  the  shrubberies  it  was  constructed  of  wood,  the  inter- 
stices between  the  framing  being  filled  up  with  short 
billets  of  fir  nailed  diagonally.  Dare,  even  when  with- 
out a  settled  plan  in  his  head,  could  arrange  for  pro- 
babilities ;  and  wrenching  out  one  of  the  billets  he  looked 
inside.  It  seemed  to  be  a  simple  oblong  apartment, 
fitted  up  with  ropes,  with  a  little  dressing-closet  at  one 
end,  and  lighted  by  a  skylight  or  lantern  in  the  roof. 
Dare  replaced  the  wood  and  went  on  his  way. 

194 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

Havill  was  smoking  on  his  doorstep  when  Dare 
passed  up  the  street.     He  held  up  his  hand. 

'  Since  you  have  been  gone,'  said  the  architect,  '  I've 
hit  upon  something  that  may  help  you  in  exhibiting 
your  lady  to  your  gentleman.  In  the  summer  I  had 
orders  to  design  a  g^-mnasium  for  her,  which  I  did ; 
and  they  say  she  is  very  clever  on  the  ropes  and  bars. 
Now ' 

'  I've  discovered  it.  I  shall  contrive  for  him  to  see 
her  there  on  the  first  wet  morning,  which  is  when  she 
practises.     What  made  her  think  of  it  ?  ' 

'  As  you  may  have  heard,  she  holds  advanced  views 
on  social  and  other  matters  ;  and  in  those  on  the  higher 
education  of  women  she  is  very  strong,  talking  a  good 
deal  about  the  physical  training  of  the  Greeks,  whom 
she  adores,  or  did.  Every  philosopher  and  m,an  of 
science  who  ventilates  his  theories  in  the  monthly  re- 
views has  a  devout  listener  in  her ;  and  this  subject  of 
the  physical  development  of  her  sex  has  had  its  turn 
with  other  things  in  her  mind.  So  she  had  the  place 
built  on  her  very  first  arrival,  according  to  the  latest 
lights  on  athletics,  and  in  imitation  of  those  at  the  new 
collecres  for  women.' 

'  How  deuced  clever  of  the  girl  I  She  means  to  live 
to  be  a  hundred.' 


A   LAODICEAN 


VII 

i  HE  wet  day  arrived  with  all  the  promptness  that 
might  have  been  expected  of  it  in  this  land  of  rains 
and  mists.  The  alder  bushes  behind  the  gymnasium 
dripped  monotonously  leaf  upon  leaf,  added  to  this 
being  the  purl  of  the  shallow  stream  a  little  way  off, 
producing  a  sense  of  satiety  in  watery  sounds.  Though 
there  was  drizzle  in  the  open  meads,  the  rain  here  in 
the  thicket  was  comparatively  slight,  and  two  men  with 
fishing  tackle  who  stood  beneath  one  of  the  larger  bushes 
found  its  boughs  a  sufficient  shelter. 

'  We  may  as  well  walk  home  again  as  study  nature 
here,  Willy,'  said  the  taller  and  elder  of  the  twain.  '  I 
feared  it  would  continue  when  we  started.  The  magni- 
ficent sport  you  speak  of  must  rest  for  to-day.' 

The  other  looked  at  his  watch,  but  made  no  parti- 
cular reply. 

'  Come,  let  us  move  on.  I  don't  like  intruding  into 
other  people's  grounds  like  this,'  De  Stancy  continued. 

'  We  are  not  intruding.  Anybody  walks  outside  this 
fence.'  He  indicated  an  iron  railing  newly  tarred, 
dividing  the  wilder  underwood  amid  which  they  stood 
from  the  inner  and  well-kept  parts  of  the  shrubbery,  and 
against  which  the  back  of  the  gymnasium  was  built. 

Light  footsteps  upon  a  gravel  walk  could  be  heard  on 
the  other  side  of  the  fence,  and  a  trio  of  cloaked  and 

196 


DARE  AND   HAVILL 

umbrella-screened  figures  were  for  a  moment  discernible. 
They  vanished  behind  the  gymnasium  ;  and  again  no- 
thing resounded  but  the  river  murmurs  and  the  clock- 
like  drippings  of  the  leafage. 

'  Hush ! '  said  Dare. 

'  No  pranks,  my  boy,'  said  De  Stancy  suspiciously. 
'  You  should  be  above  them.' 

'  And  you  should  trust  to  my  good  sense,  captain,' 
Dare  remonstrated.  '  I  have  not  indulged  in  a  prank 
since  the  sixth  year  of  my  pilgrimage  :  I  have  found 
them  too  damaging  to  my  interests.  Well,  it  is  not  too 
dry  here,  and  damp  injures  your  health,  you  say.  Have 
a  pull  for  safety's  sake.'  He  presented  a  flask  to  De 
Stancy. 

The  artillery  officer  looked  down  at  his  nether 
garments. 

'  I  don't  break  my  rule  without  good  reason,'  he 
observed. 

'  I  am  afraid  that  reason  exists  at  present.' 

'  I  am  afraid  it  does.     What  have  you  got  ? ' 

'  Only  a  little  wine.' 

'  What  wine  ?  ' 

'  Do  try  it.  I  call  it  "  the  blushful  Hippocrene,"  that 
the  poet  describes  as 

"Tasting  of  Flora  and  the  country  green  ; 
Dance,  and  Proven9al  song,  and  sun-burnt  mirth." ' 

De  Stancy  took  the  flask,  and  drank  a  little. 

'  It  warms,  does  it  not  ?  '  said  Dare. 

'  Too  much,'  said  De  Stancy  with  misgiving.  '  I 
have  been  taken  unawares.  Why,  it  is  three  parts 
brandy,  to  my  taste,  you  scamp  ! ' 

Dare  put  away  the  wine.  '  Now  you  are  to  see  some- 
thing,' he  said. 

'  Something — what  is  it  ?  '  Captain  De  Stancy  re- 
garded him  with  a  pu/zled  look. 

197 


A  LAODICEAN 

'  It  is  quite  a  curiosity,  and  really  worth  seeing.  Now 
just  look  in  here.' 

The  speaker  advanced  to  the  back  of  the  building, 
and  withdrew  the  wood  billet  from  the  wall. 

'  Will,  I  believe  you  are  up  to  some  trick,'  said  De 
Stancy,  not,  however,  suspecting  the  actual  truth  in  these 
unsuggestive  circumstances,  and  with  a  comfortable  re- 
signation, produced  by  the  potent  liquor,  which  would 
have  been  comical  to  an  outsider,  but  which,  to  one 
who  had  known  the  history  and  relationship  of  the  two 
speakers,  would  have  worn  a  sadder  significance.  '  I 
am  too  big  a  fool  about  you  to  keep  you  down  as  I 
ought ;  that's  the  fault  of  me,  worse  luck.' 

He  pressed  the  youth's  hand  with  a  smile,  went  for- 
ward, and  looked  through  the  hole  into  the  interior  of 
the  gymnasium.  Dare  withdrew  to  some  little  distance, 
and  watched  Captain  De  Stancy's  face,  which  presently 
began  to  assume  an  expression  of  interest. 

What  was  the  captain  seeing?  A  sort  of  optical 
poem. 

Paula,  in  a  pink  flannel  costume,  was  bending, 
wheeling  and  undulating  in  the  air  like  a  gold-fish  in  its 
globe,  sometimes  ascending  by  her  arms  nearly  to  the 
lantern,  then  lowering  herself  till  she  swung  level  with 
the  floor.  Her  aunt  Mrs.  Goodman,  and  Charlotte  De 
Stancy,  were  sitting  on  camp-stools  at  one  end,  watching 
her  gyrations,  Paula  occasionally  addressing  them  with 
such  an  expression  as — '  Now,  Aunt,  look  at  me — and 
you,  Charlotte — is  not  that  shocking  to  your  weak 
nerves,'  when  some  adroit  feat  would  be  repeated,  which, 
however,  seemed  to  give  much  more  pleasure  to  Paula 
herself  in  performing  it  than  to  Mrs.  Goodman  in  look- 
ing on,  the  latter  sometimes  saying,  '  O,  it  is  terrific — do 
not  run  such  a  risk  again  ! ' 

It  would  have  demanded  the  poetic  passion  of  some 
joyous  Elizabethan  lyrist  like  Lodge,  Nash,  or  Constable, 
to  fitly  phrase   Paula's  presentation   of  herself  at   this. 

198 


DARE   AND   HAVILL 

moment  of  absolute  abandonment  to  every  muscular 
whim  that  could  take  possession  of  such  a  supple  form. 
The  white  manilla  ropes  clung  about  the  performer  like 
snakes  as  she  took  her  exercise,  and  the  colour  in  her 
face  deepened  as  she  went  on.  Captain  De  Stancy  felt 
that,  much  as  he  had  seen  in  early  life  of  beauty  in 
woman,  he  had  never  seen  beauty  of  such  a  real  and 
living  sort  as  this.  A  recollection  of  his  vo'.v,  together 
with  a  sense  that  to  gaze  on  the  festival  of  this  Bona 
Dea  was,  though  so  innocent  and  pretty  a  sight,  hardly 
fair  or  gentlemanly,  would  have  compelled  him  to  with- 
draw his  eyes,  had  not  the  sportive  fascination  of  her 
appearance  glued  them  there  in  spite  of  all.  And  as  if 
to  complete  the  picture  of  Grace  personified  and  add 
the  one  thing  wanting  to  the  charm  which  bound  him, 
the  clouds,  till  that  time  thick  in  the  sky,  broke  away 
from  the  upper  heaven,  and  allowed  the  noonday  sun  to 
pour  down  through  the  lantern  upon  her,  irradiating  her 
with  a  warm  light  that  was  incarnadined  by  her  pink 
doublet  and  hose,  and  reflected  in  upon  her  face.  She 
only  required  a  cloud  to  rest  on  instead  of  the  green 
silk  net  which  actually  supported  her  reclining  figure  for 
the  moment,  to  be  quite  Olympian ;  save  indeed  that  in 
place  of  haughty  effrontery  there  sat  on  her  countenance 
only  the  healthful  sprightliness  of  an  EngUsh  girl. 

Dare  had  withdrawn  to  a  point  at  which  another 
path  crossed  the  path  occupied  by  De  Stancy.  Looking 
in  a  side  direction,  he  saw  Havill  idling  slowly  up  to 
him  over  the  silent  grass.  Havill's  knowledge  of  the 
appointment  had  brought  him  out  to  see  what  would 
come  of  it.  When  he  neared  Dare,  but  was  still 
partially  hidden  by  the  boughs  from  the  third  of  the 
party,  the  former  simply  pointed  to  De  Stancy,  upon 
which  Havill  stood  and  peeped  at  him.  '  Is  she  within 
there  ?  '  he  inquired. 

Dare  nodded,  and  whispered,  '  You  need  not  have 
asked,  if  you  had  examined  his  face.' 

199 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  That's  true.' 

'  A  fermentation  is  beginning  in  him,'  said  Dare, 
half  pitifully ;  'a  purely  chemical  process;  and  when  it 
is  complete  he  will  probably  be  clear,  and  fiery,  and 
sparkling,  and  quite  another  man  than  the  good,  weak, 
easy  fellow  that  he  was.' 

To  precisely  describe  Captain  De  Stancy's  admiration 
was  impossible.  A  sun  seemed  to  rise  in  his  face.  By 
watching  him  they  could  almost  see  the  aspect  of  her 
within  the  wall,  so  accurately  were  her  changing  phases 
reflected  in  him.  He  seemed  to  forget  that  he  was 
not  alone. 

'And  is  this,'  he  murmured,  in  the  manner  of  one 
only  half  apprehending  himself,  '  and  is  this  the  end  of 
my  vow  ? ' 

Paula  was  saying  at  this  moment,  '  Ariel  sleeps  in 
this  posture,  does  he  not,  Auntie  ? '  Suiting  the  action 
to  the  word  she  flung  out  her  arms  behind  her  head  as 
she  lay  in  the  green  silk  hammock,  idly  closed  her  pink 
eyelids,  and  swung  herself  to  and  fro. 


BOOK  THE  THIRD 

DE  STANCY 


DE  STANCY 


BOOK  THE  THIRD 
DE  STANCY 


Captain  DE  STANCY  was  a  changed  man.  A 
hitherto  well-repressed  energy  was  giving  him  motion 
towards  long-shunned  consequences.  His  features  were, 
indeed,  the  same  as  before;  though,  had  a  physiognomist 
chosen  to  study  them  with  the  closeness  of  an  astronomer 
scanning  the  universe,  he  would  doubtless  have  discerned 
abundant  novelty. 

In  recent  years  De  Stancy  had  been  an  easy,  melan- 
choly, unaspiring  officer,  enervated  and  depressed  by  a 
parental  affection  quite  beyond  his  control  for  the  grace- 
less lad  Dare — the  obtrusive  memento  of  a  shadowy 
period  in  De  Stancy's  youth,  who  threatened  to  be  the 
curse  of  his  old  age.  Throughout  a  long  space  he  had 
persevered  in  his  S3'stem  of  rigidly  incarcerating  within 
himself  all  instincts  towards  the  opposite  sex,  with  a 
resolution  that  would  not  have  disgraced  a  much 
stronger  man.  By  this  habit,  maintained  with  fair 
success,  a  chamber  of  his  nature  had  been  preserved 
intact  during  many  later  years,  like  the  one  solitary 
sealed-up  cell  occasionally  retained  by  bees  in  a  lobe 
of  drained  honey-comb.  And  thus,  though  he  had 
irretrievably  exhausted  the  relish  of  society,  of  ambition, 

203 


A   LAODICEAN 

of  action,  and  of  his  profession,  the  love  force  that  he 
had  kept  immured  alive  was  still  a  reproducible  thing. 

The  sight  of  Paula  in  her  graceful  performance,  which 
the  judicious  Dare  had  so  carefully  planned,  led  up 
to  and  heightened  by  subtle  accessories,  operated  on 
De  Stancy's  surprised  soul  with  a  promptness  almost 
magical. 

On  the  evening  of  the  self-same  day,  having  dined  as 
usual,  he  retired  to  his  rooms,  w^here  he  found  a  hamper 
of  wine  awaiting  him.  It  had  been  anonymously  sent, 
and  the  account  was  paid.  He  smiled  grimly,  but  no 
longer  with  heaviness.  In  this  he  instantly  recognized 
the  handiwork  of  Dare,  who,  having  at  last  broken 
down  the  barrier  which  De  Stancy  had  erected  round 
his  heart  for  so  many  years,  acted  like  a  skilled 
strategist,  and  took  swift  measures  to  follow  up  the 
advantage  so  tardily  gained. 

Captain  De  Stancy  knew  himself  conquered :  he 
knew  he  should  yield  to  Paula — had  indeed  yielded; 
but  there  was  now,  in  his  solitude,  an  hour  or  two  of 
reaction.  He  did  not  drink  from  the  bottles  sent.  He 
went  early  to  bed,  and  lay  tossing  thereon  till  far  into 
the  night,  thinking  over  the  collapse.  His  teetotaUsm 
had,  with  the  lapse  of  years,  unconsciously  become  the 
outward  and  visible  sign  to  himself  of  his  secret  vows ; 
and  a  return  to  its  opposite,  however  mildly  done, 
signified  with  ceremonious  distinctness  the  formal  accep- 
tance of  delectations  long  forsworn. 

But  the  exceeding  freshness  of  his  feeling  for  Paula, 
which  by  reason  of  its  long  arrest  was  that  of  a  man  far 
under  thirty,  and  was  a  wonder  to  himself  every  instant, 
would  not  long  brook  weighing  in  balances.  He  wished 
suddenly  to  commit  himself;  to  remove  the  question  of 
retreat  out  of  the  region  of  debate.  The  clock  struck 
two  :  and  the  wish  became  determination.  He  arose, 
and  wrapping  himself  in  his  dressing-gown  went  to  the 
next  room,  where  he  took  from  a  shelf  in  the  pantry 

204 


DE   STANCY 

several  large  bottles,  which  he  carried  to  the  window,  till 
they  stood  on  the  sill  a  goodly  row.  There  had  been 
sufficient  light  in  the  room  for  him  to  do  this  without  a 
candle.  Now  he  softly  opened  the  sash,  and  the  radiance 
of  a  gibbous  moon  riding  in  the  opposite  sky  flooded  the 
apartment.  It  fell  on  the  labels  of  the  captain's  bottles, 
revealing  their  contents  to  be  simple  aerated  waters  for 
drinking. 

De  Stancy  looked  out  and  listened.  The  guns  that 
stood  drawn  up  within  the  yard  glistened  in  the  moon- 
light reaching  them  from  over  the  barrack- wall :  there 
was  an  occasional  stamp  of  horses  in  the  stables  ;  also  a 
measured  tread  of  sentinels — one  or  more  at  the  gates, 
one  at  the  hospital,  one  between  the  wings,  two  at  the 
magazine,  and  others  further  off.  Recurring  to  his 
intention  he  drew  the  corks  of  the  mineral  waters,  and 
inverting  each  bottle  one  by  one  over  the  window-sill, 
heard  its  contents  dribble  in  a  small  stream  on  to  the 
gravel  below. 

He  then  opened  the  hamper  which  Dare  had  sent. 
Uncorking  one  of  the  bottles  he  murmured,  '  To  Paula  ! ' 
and  drank  a  glass  of  the  ruby  liquor. 

'  A  man  again  after  eighteen  years,'  he  said,  shutting 
the  sash  and  returning  to  his  bedroom. 

The  first  overt  result  of  his  kindled  interest  in  Miss 
Power  was  his  saying  to  his  sister  the  day  after  the 
surreptitious  sight  of  Paula  :  '  I  am  sorry,  Charlotte,  for 
a  word  or  two  I  said  the  other  day.' 

'  ^^'ell  ? ' 

'  I  was  rather  disrespectful  to  your  friend  Miss 
Power.' 

'  I  don't  think  so — were  you  ?  ' 

'  Yes.  When  we  were  walking  in  the  wood,  I  made 
a  stupid  joke  about  her.  .  .  .  What  does  she  know 
about  me — do  you  ever  speak  of  me  to  her  ? 

'  Only  in  general  terms.' 

'  What  general  terms  ? ' 

205 


A  LAODICEAN 

'  You  know  well  enough,  William ;  of  your  idiosyn- 
crasies and  so  on — that  you  arc  a  bit  of  a  woman-hater, 
or  at  least  a  confirmed  bachelor,  and  have  but  little 
respect  for  your  own  family.' 

'  I  wish  you  had  not  told  her  that,'  said  De  Stancy 
with  dissatisfaction. 

'  But  I  thought  you  always  liked  women  to  know  your 
principles ! '  said  Charlotte,  in  injured  tones ;  '  and 
would  particularly  like  her  to  know  them,  living  so  near.' 

'  Yes,  yes,'  replied  her  brother  hastily.  '  Well,  I 
ought  to  see  her,  just  to  show  her  that  I  am  not  quite 
a  brute.' 

'  That  would  be  very  nice ! '  she  answered,  putting 
her  hands  together  in  agreeable  astonishment.  '  It  is 
just  what  I  have  wished,  though  I  did  not  dream  of 
suggesting  it  after  what  I  have  heard  you  say.  I  am 
going  to  stay  with  her  again  to-morrow,  and  I  will  let 
her  know  about  this.' 

'  Don't  tell  her  anything  plainly,  for  heaven's  sake. 
I  really  want  to  see  the  interior  of  the  castle;  I  have 
never  entered  its  walls  since  my  babyhood.'  He  raised 
his  eyes  as  he  spoke  to  where  the  walls  in  question 
showed  their  ashlar  faces  over  the  trees. 

'  You  might  have  gone  over  it  at  any  time.' 

*0  yes.  It  is  only  recently  that  I  have  thought 
much  of  the  place  :  I  feel  now  that  I  should  like  to 
examine  the  old  building  thoroughly,  since  it  was  for  so 
many  generations  associated  with  our  fortunes,  especially 
as  most  of  the  old  furniture  is  still  there.  My  sedulous 
avoidance  hitherto  of  all  relating  to  our  family  vicissi- 
tudes has  been,  I  own,  stupid  conduct  for  an  intelligent 
being ;  but  impossible  grapes  are  always  sour,  and  I 
have  unconsciously  adopted  Radical  notions  to  obliter- 
ate disappointed  hereditary  instincts.  But  these  have  a 
trick  of  re-establishing  themselves  as  one  gets  older,  and 
the  castle  and  what  it  contains  have  a  keen  interest  for 
me  now.' 

2c6 


DE   STANCY 

'  It  contains  Paula.' 

De  Stancy's  pulse,  which  had  been  beating  languidly 
for  many  years,  beat  double  at  the  sound  of  that  name. 

'  I  meant  furniture  and  pictures  for  the  moment,'  he 
said ;  '  but  I  don't  mind  extending  the  meaning  to  her, 
if  you  ^^^sh  it.' 

'  She  is  the  rarest  thing  there.' 

'  So  you  have  said  before.' 

'  The  castle  and  our  family  history  have  as  much 
romantic  interest  for  her  as  they  have  for  you,'  Charlotte 
went  on.  '  She  delights  in  visiting  our  tombs  and 
effigies,  and  ponders  over  them  for  hours.' 

'  Indeed  ! '  said  De  Stancy,  allowing  his  surprise  to 
hide  the  satisfaction  which  accompanied  it.  '  That  should 
make  us  friendly.  .  .  .  Does  she  see  many  people  ? ' 

'  Not  many  as  yet.  And  she  cannot  have  many 
staying  there  during  the  alterations.' 

'  Ah  !  yes — the  alterations.  Didn't  you  say  that  she 
has  had  a  London  architect  stopping  there  on  that 
account  ?     What  was  he — old  or  young  ?  ' 

'  He  is  a  young  man  :  he  has  been  to  our  house. 
Don't  you  remember  you  met  him  there  ? ' 

'  What  was  his  name  ?  ' 

'  Mr.  Somerset.' 

'  O,  that  man  !  Yes,  yes,  I  remember.  .  .  .  KuUo, 
Lottie ! ' 

'  What  ? ' 

'Your  face  is  as  red  as  a  peony.  Novv'  I  know  a 
secret ! '  Charlotte  vainly  endeavoured  to  hide  her  con- 
fusion. '  Very  well, — not  a  word  !  I  v,on't  say  more,' 
continued  De  Stancy  good-humouredly,  '  except  that  he 
seems  to  be  a  very  nice  fellow.' 

De  Stancy  had  turned  the  dialogue  on  to  this  little 
well-preserved  secret  of  his  sister's  with  sufficient  out- 
ward lightness  ;  but  it  had  been  done  in  instinctive  con- 
cealment  of  the  disquieting  start  with  which  he  had 
recognized  that  Somerset,  Dare's  enemy,  whom  he  had 

207 


A   LAODICEAN 

intercepted  in  placing  Dare's  portrait  into  the  hands 
of  the  chief  constable,  was  a  man  beloved  by  his  sister 
Charlotte.  This  novel  circumstance  might  lead  to  a 
curious  complication.     But  he  was  to  hear  more. 

'  He  may  be  very  nice,'  replied  Charlotte,  with  an 
effort,  after  this  silence.  '  But  he  is  nothing  to  me, 
more  than  a  very  good  friend.' 

'  There's  no  engagement,  or  thought  of  one  between 
you? ' 

*  Certainly  there's  not ! '  said  Charlotte,  with  brave 
emphasis.  '  It  is  more  likely  to  be  between  Paula  and 
him  than  me  and  him.' 

De  Stancy's  bare  military  ears  and  closely  cropped 
poll  flushed  hot.      '  Miss  Power  and  him  ?  ' 

'  I  don't  mean  to  say  there  is,  because  Paula  denies 
it ;  but  I  mean  that  he  loves  Paula.     That  I  do  know.' 

De  Stancy  was  dumb.  This  item  of  news  which 
Dare  had  kept  from  him,  not  knowing  how  far  De 
Stancy's  sense  of  honour  might  extend,  was  decidedly 
grave.  Indeed,  he  was  so  greatly  impressed  with  the 
fact,  that  he  could  not  help  saying  as  much  aloud : 
'  This  is  very  serious  ! ' 

'  Why !  '  she  murmured  tremblingly,  for  the  first 
leaking  out  of  her  tender  and  sworn  secret  had  disabled 
her  quite. 

'  Because  I  love  Paula  too.' 

'  What  do  you  say,  William,  you  ? — a  woman  you 
have  never  seen  ? ' 

'  I  have  seen  her — by  accident.  And  now,  my  dear 
little  sis,  you  will  be  my  close  ally,  won't  you  ?  as  I  will 
be  yours,  as  brother  and  sister  should  be.'  He  placed 
his  arm  coaxingly  round  Charlotte's  shoulder. 

'  O,  William,  how  can  I  ?  '  at  last  she  stammered. 

'  Wliy,  how  can't  you  ?  I  should  say.  We  are  both 
in  the  same  ship.  I  love  Paula,  you  love  Mr.  Somerset ; 
it  behoves  both  of  us  to  see  that  this  flirtation  of  theirs 
ends  in  nothing.' 

208 


DE   STANCY 

'  I  don't  like  you  to  put  it  like  that — that  I  love 
him  —  it  frightens  me,'  murmured  the  girl,  visibly 
agitated.  '  I  don't  want  to  divide  him  from  Paula ;  I 
couldn't,  I  wouldn't  do  anything  to  separate  them. 
Believe  me,  \\'ill,  I  could  not !  I  am  sorry  you  love 
there  also,  though  I  should  be  glad  if  it  happened  in 
the  natural  order  of  events  that  she  should  come  round 
to  you.  But  I  cannot  do  anything  to  part  them  and 
make  Mr.  Somerset  suffer.  It  would  be  too  wrong  and 
blamable.' 

'  Now,  you  silly  Charlotte,  that's  just  how  you 
women  fly  off  at  a  tangent.  I  mean  nothing  dis- 
honourable in  the  least.  Have  I  ever  prompted  you 
to  do  anything  dishonourable  ?  Fair  fighting  allies  was 
all  I  thought  off.' 

Miss  De  Stancy  breathed  more  freely.  '  Yes,  we 
will  be  that,  of  course ;  we  are  always  that,  William. 
But  I  hope  I  can  be  your  ally,  and  be  quite  neutral; 
I  would  so  much  rather.' 

'  W^ell,  I  suppose  it  will  not  be  a  breach  of  your 
precious  neutrality  if  you  get  me  invited  to  see  the 
castle  ? ' 

'  O  no  ! '  she  said  brightly ;  '  I  don't  mind  doing 
such  a  thing  as  that.  Why  not  come  with  me  to- 
morrow ?  I  will  say  I  am  going  to  bring  you.  There 
will  be  no  trouble  at  all.' 

De  Stancy  readily  agreed.  The  effect  upon  him  of 
the  information  now  acquired  was  to  intensify  his  ardour 
tenfold,  the  stimulus  being  due  to  a  perception  that 
Somerset,  with  a  little  more  knowledge,  would  hold  a 
card  which  could  be  played  with  disastrous  effect 
against  himself — his  relationship  to  Dare.  Its  dis- 
closure, to  a  lady  of  such  Puritan  antecedents  as 
Paula's,  would  probably  mean  her  immediate  severance 
from  himself  as  an  unclean  thing. 

'  Is  Miss  Power  a  severe  pietist,  or  precisian ;  or  is 
she  a  compromising  lady  ?  '  he  asked  abruptly. 

209  o 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  She  is  severe  and  uncompromising — if  you  mean 
in  her  judgments  on  morals,'  said  Charlotte,  not  quite 
hearing.  The  remark  was  peculiarly  apposite,  and  De 
Stancy  was  silent. 

He  spent  some  following  hours  in  a  close  study  of 
the  castle  history,  which  till  now  had  unutterably  bored 
him.  More  particularly  did  he  dwell  over  documents 
and  notes  which  referred  to  the  pedigree  of  his  own 
family.  He  wrote  out  the  names  of  all — and  they  were 
many — who  had  been  born  within  those  domineering 
walls  since  their  first  erection ;  of  those  among  them 
who  had  been  brought  thither  by  marriage  with  the 
owner,  and  of  stranger  knights  and  gentlemen  who 
had  entered  the  castle  by  marriage  with  its  mistress. 
He  refreshed  his  memory  on  the  strange  loves  and 
hates  that  had  arisen  in  the  course  of  the  family 
history;  on  memorable  attacks,  and  the  dates  of 
the  same,  the  most  memorable  among  them  being  the 
occasion  on  which  the  party  represented  by  Paula 
battered  down  the  castle  walls  that  she  was  now  about 
to  mend,  and,  as  he  hoped,  return  in  their  original 
intact  shape  to  the  family  dispossessed,  by  marriage 
with  himself,  its  living  representative. 

In  Sir  William's  villa  were  small  engravings  after 
many  of  the  portraits  in  the  castle  galleries,  some  of 
them  hanging  in  the  dining-room  in  plain  oak  and 
maple  frames,  and  others  preserved  in  portfolios. 
De  Stancy  spent  much  of  his  time  over  these,  and  in 
getting  up  the  romances  of  their  originals'  lives  from 
memoirs  and  other  records,  all  which  stories  were  as 
great  novelties  to  him  as  they  could  possibly  be  to  any 
stranger.  Most  interesting  to  him  was  the  life  of  an 
Edward  De  Stancy,  who  had  lived  just  before  the 
Civil  Wars,  and  to  whom  Captain  De  Stancy  bore  a 
very  traceable  likeness.  This  ancestor  had  a  mole  on 
his  cheek,  black  and  distinct  as  a  fly  in  cream ;  and 
as  in  the  case  of  the  first  Lord  Amherst's  wart,  and 

2IO 


DE   STANCY 

Bennet  Earl  of  Arlington's  nose-scar,  the  painter  had 
faithfully  reproduced  the  defect  on  canvas.  It  so 
happened  that  the  captain  had  a  mole,  though  not 
exactly  on  the  same  spot  of  his  face ;  and  this  made 
the  resemblance  still  greater. 

He  took  infinite  trouble  with  his  dress  that  day, 
showing  an  amount  of  anxiety  on  the  matter  which  for 
him  was  quite  abnormal.  At  last,  when  fully  equipped, 
he  set  out  with  his  sister  to  make  the  call  proposed. 
Charlotte  was  rather  unhappy  at  sight  of  her  brother's 
earnest  attempt  to  make  an  impression  on  Paula  ;  but 
she  could  say  nothing  against  it,  and  they  proceeded 
on  their  way. 

It  was  the  darkest  of  November  weather,  when  the 
days  are  so  short  that  morning  seems  to  join  with 
evening  without  the  intervention  of  noon.  The  sky 
was  lined  with  low  cloud,  within  whose  dense  substance 
tempests  were  slowly  fermenting  for  the  coming  days. 
Even  now  a  windy  turbulence  troubled  the  half-naked 
boughs,  and  a  lonely  leaf  would  occasionally  spin 
downwards  to  rejoin  on  the  grass  the  scathed  multi- 
tude of  its  comrades  which  had  preceded  it  in  its  fall. 
The  river  by  the  pavilion,  in  the  summer  so  clear  and 
purling,  now  slid  onwards  brown  and  thick  and  silent, 
and  enlarged  to  double  size. 


A   LAODICEAN 


II 

JVlE  AN  WHILE  Paula  was  alone.  Of  any  one  else  it 
would  have  been  said  that  she  must  be  finding  the  after- 
noon rather  dreary  in  the  quaint  halls  not  of  her  fore- 
fathers :  but  of  Miss  Power  it  was  unsafe  to  predicate 
so  surely.  She  walked  from  room  to  room  in  a  black 
velvet  dress  which  gave  decision  to  her  outline  without 
depriving  it  of  softness.  She  occasionally  clasped  her 
hands  behind  her  head  and  looked  out  of  a  window  ; 
but  she  more  particularly  bent  her  footsteps  up  and 
down  the  Long  Gallery,  where  she  had  caused  a  large 
fire  of  logs  to  be  kindled,  in  her  endeavour  to  extend 
cheerfulness  somewhat  beyond  the  precincts  of  the 
sitting-rooms. 

The  fire  glanced  up  on  Paula,  and  Paula  glanced 
down  at  the  fire,  and  at  the  gnarled  beech  fuel,  and  at 
the  wood-lice  which  ran  out  from  beneath  the  bark  to 
the  extremity  of  the  logs  as  the  heat  approached  them. 
The  low-down  ruddy  light  spread  over  the  dark  floor 
like  the  setting  sun  over  a  moor,  fluttering  on  the 
grotesque  countenances  of  the  bright  andirons,  and 
touching  all  the  furniture  on  the  underside. 

She  now  and  then  crossed  to  one  of  the  deep  embra- 
sures of  the  windows,  to  decipher  some  sentence  from  a 
letter  she  held  in  her  hand.  The  daylight  would  have 
been  more  than  sufficient  for  any  bystander  to  discern 

212 


DE   STANCY 

that  the  capitals  in  that  letter  were  of  the  peculiar  semi- 
gothic  type  affected  at  the  time  by  Somerset  and  other 
young  architects  of  his  school  in  their  epistolary  corres- 
pondence. She  was  very  possibly  thinking  of  him,  even 
when  not  reading  his  letter,  for  the  expression  of  soft- 
ness with  which  she  perused  the  page  was  more  or  less 
with  her  v.-hen  she  appeared  to  examine  other  things. 

She  Avalked  about  for  a  little  time  longer,  then  put 
away  the  letter,  looked  at  the  clock,  and  thence  returned 
to  the  windows,  straining  her  eyes  over  the  landscape 
without,  as  she  murmured,  '  I  wish  Charlotte  was  not 
so  long  coming  ! ' 

As  Charlotte  continued  to  keep  away,  Paula  became 
less  reasonable  in  her  desires,  and  proceeded  to  wish 
that  Somerset  would  arrive;  then  that  anybody  would 
come ;  then,  walking  towards  the  portraits  on  the  wall, 
she  flippantly  asked  one  of  those  cavaliers  to  oblige  her 
fancy  for  company  by  stepping  down  from  his  frame. 
The  temerity  of  the  request  led  her  to  prudently  with- 
draw it  almost  as  soon  as  conceived :  old  paintings  had 
been  said  to  play  queer  tricks  in  extreme  cases,  and  the 
shadows  this  afternoon  were  funereal  enough  for  any- 
thing in  the  shape  of  revenge  on  an  intruder  who  em- 
bodied the  antagonistic  modern  spirit  to  such  an  extent 
as  she.  However,  Paula  still  stood  before  the  picture 
which  had  attracted  her;  and  this,  by  a  coincidence 
common  enough  in  fact,  though  scarcely  credited  in 
chronicles,  happened  to  be  that  one  of  the  seventeenth- 
century  portraits  of  which  De  Stancy  had  studied  the 
engraved  copy  at  Myrtle  Villa  the  same  morning. 

Whilst  she  remained  before  the  picture,  wondering 
her  favourite  wonder,  how  would  she  feel  if  this  and 
its  accompanying  canvases  were  pictures  of  her  own 
ancestors,  she  was  surprised  by  a  light  footstep  upon 
the  carpet  which  covered  part  of  the  room,  and  turning 
quickly  she  beheld  the  smiling  little  figure  of  Charlotte 
De  Stancy. 

213 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  What  has  made  you  so  late  ?  '  said  Paula.  '  You 
are  come  to  stay,  of  course  ?  ' 

Charlotte  said  she  had  come  to  stay.  *  But  I  have 
brought  somebody  with  me  ! ' 

'  Ah — whom  ?  ' 

'  My  brother  happened  to  be  at  home,  and  I  have 
brought  him.' 

Miss  De  Stancy's  brother  had  been  so  continuously 
absent  from  home  in  India,  or  elsewhere,  so  little  spoken 
of,  and,  when  spoken  of,  so  truly  though  unconsciously 
represented  as  one  whose  interests  lay  wholly  outside 
this  antiquated  neighbourhood,  that  to  Paula  he  had 
been  a  mere  nebulosity  whom  she  had  never  distinctly 
outlined.  To  have  him  thus  cohere  into  substance  at  a 
moment's  notice  lent  him  the  novelty  of  a  new  creation. 

'Is  he  in  the  drawing-room?'  said  Paula  in  a  low  voice. 

'  No,  he  is  here.  He  would  follow  me.  I  hope 
you  will  forgive  him.' 

And  then  Paula  saw  emerge  into  the  red  beams  of 
the  dancing  fire,  from  behind  a  half-drawn  hanging 
which  screened  the  door,  the  military  gentleman  whose 
acquaintance  the  reader  has  already  made. 

'  You  know  the  house,  doubtless,  Captain  De 
Stancy  ? '  said  Paula,  somewhat  shyly,  when  he  had 
been  presented  to  her. 

'  I  have  never  seen  the  inside  since  I  was  three  weeks 
old,'  replied  the  artillery  officer  gracefully ;  '  and  hence 
my  recollections  of  it  are  not  remarkably  distinct.  A 
year  or  two  before  I  was  born  the  entail  was  cut  off 
by  my  father  and  grandfather;  so  that  I  saw  the 
venerable  place  only  to  lose  it ;  at  least,  I  believe  that's 
the  truth  of  the  case.  But  my  knowledge  of  the  trans- 
action is  not  profound,  and  it  is  a  delicate  point  on 
which  to  question  one's  father.' 

Paula  assented,  and  looked  at  the  interesting  and 
noble  figure  of  the  man  whose  parents  had  seemingly 
righted  themselves  at  the  expense  of  wronging  him. 

214 


DE   STANCY 

'  The  pictures  and  furniture  were  sold  about  tlie 
same  time,  I  think  ?  '  said  Charlotte. 

*  Yes,'  murmured  De  Stancy.  '  They  went  in  a  mad 
bargain  of  my  father  with  his  visitor,  as  they  sat  over 
their  wine.  My  father  sat  down  as  host  on  that 
occasion,  and  arose  as  guest.' 

He  seemed  to  speak  with  such  a  courteous  absence 
of  regret  for  the  alienation,  that  Paula,  who  was  always 
fearing  that  the  recollection  would  rise  as  a  painful 
shadow  between  herself  and  the  De  Stancys,  felt  re- 
assured by  his  magnanimity. 

De  Stancy  looked  with  interest  round  the  gallery ; 
seeing  which  Paula  said  she  would  have  lights  brought 
in  a  moment. 

'  No,  please  not,'  said  De  Stancy.  *  The  room  and 
ourselves  are  of  so  much  more  interesting  a  colour  by 
this  light ! ' 

As  they  moved  hither  and  thither,  the  various  ex- 
pressions of  De  Stancy's  face  made  themselves  pictur- 
esquely visible  in  the  unsteady  shine  of  the  blaze.  In 
a  short  time  he  had  drawn  near  to  the  painting  of  the 
ancestor  whom  he  so  greatly  resembled.  When  her 
quick  eye  noted  the  speck  on  the  face,  indicative  of  in- 
herited traits  strongly  pronounced,  a  new  and  romantic 
feeling  that  the  De  Stancys  had  stretched  out  a  tentacle 
from  their  genealogical  tree  to  seize  her  by  the  hand 
and  draw  her  in  to  their  mass  took  possession  of  Paula. 
As  has  been  said,  the  De  Stancys  were  a  family  on 
whom  the  hall-mark  of  membership  was  deeply  stamped, 
and  by  the  present  light  the  representative  under  the 
portrait  and  the  representative  in  the  portrait  seemed 
beings  not  far  removed.  Paula  was  continually  starting 
from  a  reverie  and  speaking  irrelevantly,  as  if  such 
reflections  as  those  seized  hold  of  her  in  spite  of  her 
natural  unconcern. 

When  candles  were  brought  in  Captain  De  Stancy 
ardently  contrived  to  make  the  pictures  the  theme  of 

215 


A   LAODICEAN 

conversation.  From  the  nearest  they  went  to  the  next, 
whereupon  Paula  as  hostess  took  up  one  of  the  candle- 
sticks and  held  it  aloft  to  light  up  the  painting.  The 
candlestick  being  tall  and  heavy,  De  Stancy  relieved 
her  of  it,  and  taking  another  candle  in  the  other  hand, 
he  imperceptibly  slid  into  the  position  of  exhibitor 
rather  than  spectator.  Thus  he  walked  in  advance, 
holding  the  two  candles  on  high,  his  shadow  forming 
a  gigantic  figure  on  the  neighbouring  wall,  while  he 
recited  the  particulars  of  family  history  pertaining  to 
each  portrait,  that  he  had  learnt  up  with  such  eager 
persistence  during  the  previous  four-and-twenty-hours. 

'  I  have  often  wondered  what  could  have  been  the 
history  of  this  lady,  but  nobody  has  ever  been  able  to 
tell  me,'  Paula  observed,  pointing  to  a  Vandyck  which 
represented  a  beautiful  woman  wearing  curls  across  her 
forehead,  a  square-cut  bodice,  and  a  heavy  pearl  neck- 
lace upon  the  smooth  expanse  of  her  neck. 

'  I  don't  think  anybody  knows,'  Charlotte  said. 

'  O  yes,'  replied  her  brother  promptly,  seeing  with 
enthusiasm  that  it  was  yet  another  opportunity  for 
making  capital  of  his  acquired  knowledge,  with  which 
he  felt  himself  as  inconveniently  crammed  as  a  candi- 
date for  a  government  examination.  '  That  lady  has 
been  largely  celebrated  under  a  fancy  name,  though  she 
is  comparatively  little  known  by  her  own.  Her  parents 
were  the  chief  ornaments  of  the  almost  irreproachable 
court  of  Charles  the  First,  and  were  not  more  dis- 
tinguished by  their  politeness  and  honour  than  by  the 
affections  and  virtues  which  constitute  the  great  charm 
of  private  life.' 

The  stock  verbiage  of  the  family  memoir  was  some- 
what apparent  in  this  effusion ;  but  it  much  impressed 
his  listeners ;  and  he  went  on  to  point  out  that  from 
the  lady's  necklace  was  suspended  a  heart-shaped 
portrait — that  of  the  man  who  broke  his  heart  by  her 
persistent  refusal  to   encourage  his   suit.      De   Stancy 

?i6 


DE   STANCY 

then  led  them  a  little  further,  where  hung  a  portrait 
of  the  lover,  one  of  his  own  family,  who  appeared 
in  full  panoply  of  plate  mail,  the  pommel  of  his  sword 
standing  up  under  his  elbow.  The  gallant  captain 
then  related  how  this  personage  of  his  line  wooed 
the  lady  fruitlessly;  how,  after  her  marriage  with 
another,  she  and  her  husband  visited  the  parents  of 
the  disappointed  lover,  the  then  occupiers  of  the  castle ; 
how,  in  a  fit  of  desperation  at  the  sight  of  her,  he 
retired  to  his  room,  where  he  composed  some  passionate 
verses,  which  he  wrote  with  his  blood,  and  after  direct- 
ing them  to  her  ran  himself  through  the  body  with 
his  sword.  Too  late  the  lady's  heart  was  touched  by 
his  devotion ;  she  was  ever  after  a  melancholy  vroman, 
and  wore  his  portrait  despite  her  husband's  prohibition. 
'  This,'  continued  De  Stancy,  leading  them  through 
the  doorway  into  the  hall  where  the  coats  of  mail  were 
arranged  along  the  wall,  and  stopping  opposite  a  suit 
which  bore  some  resemblance  to  that  of  the  portrait, 
'  this  is  his  armour,  as  you  will  perceive  by  comparing 
it  with  the  picture,  and  this  is  the  sword  with  Vvhich 
he  did  the  rash  deed.' 

'  What  unreasonable  devotion ! '  said  PauLi  practi- 
cally. '  It  was  too  romantic  of  him.  She  was  not 
worthy  of  such  a  sacrifice.' 

'  He  also  is  one  whom  they  say  you  resemble  a  little 
in  feature,  I  think,'  said  Charlotte. 

'  Do  they  ?  '  replied  De  Stancy.  '  I  wonder  if  it's 
true.'  He  set  down  the  candles,  and  asking  the  girls 
to  withdraw  for  a  moment,  was  inside  the  upper  part  of 
the  suit  of  armour  in  incredibly  quick  time.  Going 
then  and  placing  himself  in  front  of  a  low-hanging  paint- 
ing near  the  original,  so  as  to  be  enclosed  by  the  frame 
while  covering  the  figure,  arranging  the  sword  as  in  the 
one  above,  and  setting  the  light  that  it  might  fall  in 
the  right  direction,  he  recalled  them ;  when  he  put  the 
question,  '  Is  the  resemblance  strong  ?  ' 

217 


A   LAODICEAN 

He  looked  so  much  like  a  man  of  bygone  times  that 
neither  of  them  replied,  but  remained  curiously  gazing 
at  him.  His  modern  and  comparatively  sallow  com- 
plexion, as  seen  through  the  open  visor,  lent  an  ethereal 
ideality  to  his  appearance  which  the  time-stained  coun- 
tenance of  the  original  warrior  totally  lacked. 

At  last  Paula  spoke,  so  stilly  that  she  seemed  a  statue 
enunciating  :  '  Are  the  verses  known  that  he  wrote  with 
his  blood  ? ' 

'  O  yes,  they  have  been  carefully  preserved.'  Captain 
De  Stancy,  with  true  wooer's  instinct,  had  committed 
some  of  them  to  memory  that  morning  from  the  printed 
copy  to  be  found  in  every  well-ordered  library.  '  I  fear 
I  don't  remember  thera  all,'  he  said,  '  but  they  begin  in 
this  way  : — 

"  From  one  that  dyeth  in  his  discontent, 
Dear  Faire,  receive  this  greeting  to  thee  sent ; 
And  still  as  oft  as  it  is  read  by  thee, 
Then  with  some  deep  sad  sigh  remember  mee  ! 

O  'twas  my  fortune's  error  to  vow  dutie, 
To  one  that  bears  defiance  in  her  beaulie  ! 
Sweete  poyson,  pretious  wooe,  infectious  Jewell — 
Such  is  a  Ladie  that  is  faire  and  cruell. 

How  well  could  I  with  ayre,  camelion-like, 
Live  happie,  and  still  gazeing  on  thy  cheeke, 
In  which,  forsaken  man,  methink  I  see 
How  goodlie  love  doth  threaten  cares  to  mee. 

Why  dost  thou  frowne  thus  on  a  kneelinge  soule, 
Whose  faults  in  love  thou  may'st  as  well  controule  ? — 
In  love— but  O,  that  v/ord  ;  that  word  I  feare 
Is  hateful  still  both  tf)  thy  hart  and  eare  ! 

Ladie,  in  breefe,  my  fate  doth  now  intend 
The  period  of  my  dales  to  have  an  end  : 
Waste  not  on  me  thy  pittie,  pretious  Faire  : 
Rest  you  in  much  content :  I.  in  despaire  I "  ' 
2lS 


DE   STANCY 

A  solemn  silence  followed  the  close  of  the  recital, 
which  Dc  Stancy  improved  by  turning  the  point  of  the 
sword  to  his  breast,  resting  the  pommel  upon  the  floor, 
and  saying : — 

'  After  A\Titing  that  we  may  picture  him  turning  this 
same  sword  in  this  same  way,  and  falling  on  it  thus.' 
He  inclined  his  body  forward  as  he  spoke. 

'  Don't,  Captain  De  Stancy,  please  don't ! '  cried 
Paula  involuntarily. 

'  No,  don't  show  us  any  further,  William  ! '  said  his 
sister.     '  It  is  too  tragic' 

De  Stancy  put  away  the  sword,  himself  rather  excited 
— not,  however,  by  his  own  recital,  but  by  the  direct 
gaze  of  Paula  at  him. 

This  Protean  quality  of  De  Stancy's,  by  means  of 
which  he  could  assume  the  shape  and  situation  of  almost 
any  ancestor  at  will,  had  impressed  her,  and  he  per- 
ceived it  with  a  throb  of  fervour.  But  it  had  done  no 
more  than  impress  her ;  for  though  in  delivering  the 
lines  he  had  so  fixed  his  look  upon  her  as  to  suggest, 
to  any  maiden  practised  in  the  game  of  the  eyes,  a 
present  significance  in  the  words,  the  idea  of  any  such 
arriere-pensee  had  by  no  means  commended  itself  to 
her  soul. 

At  this  time  a  messenger  from  Markton  barracks 
arrived  at  the  castle  and  wished  to  speak  to  Captain 
De  Stancy  in  the  hall.  Begging  the  two  ladies  to  excuse 
him  for  a  moment,  he  went  out. 

"\^'hile  De  Stancy  was  talking  in  the  twilight  to  the 
messenger  at  one  end  of  the  apartment,  some  other 
arrival  was  shown  in  by  the  side  door,  and  in  making 
his  way  after  the  conference  across  the  hall  to  the  rooni 
he  had  previously  quitted,  De  Stancy  encountered  the 
new-comer.  There  was  just  enough  light  to  reveal  the 
countenance  to  be  Dare's;  he  bore  a  portfolio  under 
his  arm,  and  had  begun  to  wear  a  moustache,  in  case 
the  chief  constable  should  meet   him  anywhere  in  his 

2  19 


A   LAODICEAN 

rambles,  and  be  struck  by  his  resemblance  to  the  man 
in  the  studio. 

'  What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here  ? '  said  Captain 
De  Stancy,  in  tones  he  had  never  used  before  to  the 
young  man. 

Dare  started  back  in  surprise,  and  naturally  so.  De 
Stancy,  having  adopted  a  new  system  of  living,  and 
relinquished  the  meagre  diet  and  enervating  waters  of 
his  past  years,  was  rapidly  recoverin^^  tone.  His  voice 
was  firmer,  his  cheeks  were  less  pallid;  and  above  all 
he  was  authoritative  towards  his  present  companion, 
whose  ingenuity  in  vamping  up  a  being  for  his  ambitious 
experiments  seemed  about  to  be  rewarded,  like  Franken- 
stein's, by  his  discomfiture  at  the  hands  of  his  own 
creature. 

'  What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here,  I  say  ?  '  repeated 
De  Stancy. 

'  You  can  talk  to  me  like  that,  after  my  working  so 
hard  to  get  you  on  in  life,  and  make  a  rising  man  of 
you ! '  expostulated  Dare,  as  one  who  felt  himself  no 
longer  the  leader  in  this  enterprise. 

'  But,'  said  the  captain  less  harshly,  '  if  you  let  them 
discover  any  relations  between  us  here,  you  will  ruin 
the  fairest  prospects  man  ever  had  ! ' 

'  O,  I  like  that,  captain — when  you  owe  all  of  it 
to  me ! ' 

'  That's  too  cool.  Will' 

'  No ;  what  I  say  is  true.  However,  let  that  go.  So 
now  you  are  here  on  a  call ;  but  how  are  you  going  to 
get  here  often  enough  to  win  her  before  the  other  man 
comes  back  ?  If  you  don't  see  her  every  day — twice, 
three  times  a  day  —  you  will  not  capture  her  in  the 
time.' 

'  I  must  think  of  that,'  said  De  Stancy. 

'  There  is  only  one  way  of  being  constantly  here : 
you  must  come  to  copy  the  pictures  or  furniture,  some- 
thing in  the  way  he  did.' 

220 


DE   STANCY 

'  I'll  think  of  it,'  muttered  De  Stancy  hastily,  as  he 
heard  the  voices  of  the  ladies,  whom  he  hastened  to  join 
as  they  were  appearing  at  the  other  end  of  the  room. 
His  countenance  was  gloomy  as  he  recrossed  the  hall, 
for  Dare's  words  on  the  shortness  of  his  opportunities 
had  impressed  him.  Almost  at  once  he  uttered  a  hope 
to  Paula  that  he  might  have  further  chance  of  studying, 
and  if  possible  of  copying,  some  of  the  ancestral  faces 
with  which  the  building  abounded. 

Meanwhile  Dare  had  come  forward  with  his  portfolio, 
which  proved  to  be  full  of  photographs.  While  Paula 
and  Charlotte  were  examining  them  he  said  to  De 
Stancy,  as  a  stranger :  '  Excuse  my  interruption,  sir, 
but  if  you  should  think  of  copying  any  of  the  portraits, 
as  you  were  stating  just  now  to  the  ladies,  my  patent 
photographic  process  is  at  your  service,  and  is,  I  believe, 
the  only  one  which  would  be  effectual  in  the  dim  indoor 
lights.' 

'  It  is  just  what  I  was  thinking  of,'  said  De  Stancy, 
now  so  far  cooled  down  from  his  irritation  as  to  be  quite 
ready  to  accept  Dare's  adroitly  suggested  scheme. 

On  application  to  Paula  she  immediately  gave  De 
Stancy  permission  to  photograph  to  any  extent,  and  told 
Dare  he  might  bring  his  instruments  as  soon  as  Captain 
De  Stancy  required  them. 

'  Don't  stare  at  her  in  such  a  brazen  way!'  whispered 
the  latter  to  the  young  man,  when  Paula  had  with- 
drawn a  few  steps.  '  Say,  "  I  shall  highly  value  the 
privilege  of  assisting  Captain  De  Stancy  in  such  a 
work." ' 

Dare  obeyed,  and  before  leaving  De  Stancy  arranged 
to  begin  performing  on  his  venerated  forefathers  the 
next  morning,  the  youth  so  accidentally  engaged  agree- 
ing to  be  there  at  the  same  time  to  assist  in  the  technical 
operations. 


A   LAODICEAN 


III 

-A.S  he  had  promised,  De  Stancy  made  use  the  next 
day  of  the  coveted  permission  that  had  been  brought 
about  by  the  ingenious  Dare.  Dare's  timely  sugges- 
tion of  tendering  assistance  had  the  practical  result  of 
relieving  the  other  of  all  necessity  for  occupying  his 
time  with  the  proceeding,  further  than  to  bestow  a 
perfunctory  superintendence  now  and  then,  to  give  a 
colour  to  his  regular  presence  in  the  fortress,  the  actual 
work  of  taking  copies  being  carried  on  by  the  younger 
man. 

The  weather  was  frequently  wet  during  these  opera- 
tions, and  Paula,  Miss  De  Stancy,  and  her  brother, 
w^ere  often  in  the  house  whole  mornings  together. 
By  constant  urging  and  coaxing  the  latter  would  in- 
duce his  gentle  sister,  much  against  her  conscience,  to 
leave  him  opportunities  for  speaking  to  Paula  alone. 
It  was  mostly  before  some  print  or  painting  that  these 
conversations  occurred,  while  De  Stancy  was  ostensibly 
occupied  with  its  merits,  or  in  giving  directions  to  his 
photographer  how  to  proceed.  As  soon  as  the  dialogue 
began,  the  latter  would  withdraw  out  of  earshot,  leaving 
Paula  to  imagine  him  the  most  deferential  young  artist 
in  the  w^orld. 

'  You  will  soon  possess  duplicates  of  the  whole 
gallery,'  she  said  on  one  of  these  occasions,  examining 

222 


DE   STANCY 

some  curled  sheets  which  Dare  had  printed   off  from 
the  negatives. 

'  No,'  said  the  soldier.  '  I  shall  not  have  patience 
to  go  on.  I  get  ill-humoured  and  indifferent,  and  then 
leave  off.' 

'  ^Vhy  ill-humoured  ?  ' 

'  I  scarcely  know — more  than  that  I  acquire  a  general 
sense  of  my  own  family's  want  of  merit  through  seeing 
how  meritorious  the  people  are  around  me.  I  see 
them  happy  and  thriving  without  any  necessity  for  me 
at  all ;  and  then  I  regard  these  canvas  grandfathers  and 
grandmothers,  and  ask,  "  Why  was  a  line  so  antiquated 
and  out  of  date  prolonged  till  now  ?  "  ' 

She  chid  him  good-naturedly  for  such  views.  '  They 
will  do  you  an  injury,'  she  declared.  '  Do  spare  your- 
self. Captain  De  Stancy  ! ' 

De  Stancy  shook  his  head  as  he  turned  the  painting 
before  him  a  little  further  to  the  light. 

'  But,  do  you  know,'  said  Paula,  '  that  notion  of 
yours  of  being  a  family  out  of  date  is  delightful  to  some 
people.  I  talk  to  Charlotte  about  it  often.  I  am  never 
weary  of  examining  those  canopied  effigies  in  the  church, 
and  almost  wish  they  were  those  of  my  relations.' 

'  I  will  try  to  see  things  in  the  same  light  for  your 
sake,'  said  De  Stancy  fervently. 

'  Not  for  my  sake ;  for  your  own  was  what  I  meant, 
of  course,'  she  replied  with  a  repressive  air. 

Captain  De  Stancy  bowed. 

'  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  your  photographs 
when  you  have  them  ? '  she  asked,  as  if  still  anxious  to 
obliterate  the  previous  sentimental  lapse. 

'  I  shall  put  them  into  a  large  album,  and  carry  them 
with  me  in  my  campaigns ;  and  may  I  ask,  now  I  have 
an  opportunity,  that  you  would  extend  your  permission 
to  copy  a  little  further,  and  let  me  photograph  one 
other  painting  that  hangs  in  the  castle,  to  fittingly 
complete  my  set  ? ' 

223 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  Which  ? ' 

'  That  half-length  of  a  lady  which  hangs  in  the 
morning-room.  I  remember  seeing  it  in  the  Academy 
last  year.' 

Paula  involuntarily  closed  herself  up.  The  picture 
was  her  own  portrait.  '  It  does  not  belong  to  your 
series,'  she  said  somewhat  coldly. 

De  Stancy's  secret  thought  was,  I  hope  from  my 
soul  it  will  belong  some  day !  He  answered  with 
mildness  :  '  There  is  a  sort  of  connection — you  are  my 
sister's  friend.' 

Paula  assented. 

'  And  hence,  might  not  your  friend's  brother  photo- 
graph your  picture  ? ' 

Paula  demurred. 

A  gentle  sigh  rose  from  the  bosom  of  De  Stancy. 
'  AVhat  is  to  become  of  me  ?  '  he  said,  with  a  light  dis- 
tressed laugh.  '  I  am  always  inconsiderate  and  inclined 
to  ask  too  much.  Forgive  me !  What  was  in  my  mind 
when  I  asked  I  dare  not  say.' 

'  I  quite  understand  your  interest  in  your  family 
pictures — and  all  of  it,'  she  remarked  more  gently,  will- 
ing not  to  hurt  the  sensitive  feelings  of  a  man  so  full  of 
romance. 

'  And  in  that  one  ! '  he  said,  looking  devotedly  at  her. 
'  If  I  had  only  been  fortunate  enough  to  include  it  with 
the  rest,  my  album  would  indeed  have  been  a  treasure 
to  pore  over  by  the  bivouac  fire  ! ' 

'  O,  Captain  De  Stancy,  this  is  provoking  persever- 
ance ! '  cried  Paula,  laughing  half  crossly.  '  I  expected 
that  after  expressing  my  decision  so  plainly  the  first  time 
I  should  not  have  been  further  urged  upon  the  subject.' 
Saying  which  she  turned  and  moved  decisively  away. 

It  had  not  been  a  productive  meeting,  thus  far. 
'  One  word ! '  said  De  Stancy,  following  and  almost 
clasping  her  hand.  '  I  have  given  offence,  I  know : 
but  do  let  it  all  fall  on  my  own  head — don't  tell  my 

224 


DE   STANCY 

sister  of  my  misbehaviour  !  She  loves  you  deeply,  and 
it  would  wound  her  to  the  heart.' 

'  You  deserve  to  be  told  upon,'  said  Paula  as  she 
withdrew,  with  just  enough  playfulness  to  show  that  her 
anger  was  not  too  serious. 

Charlotte  looked  at  Paula  uneasily  when  the  latter 
joined  her  in  the  drawing-room.  She  wanted  to  say, 
'  What  is  the  matter  ?  '  but  guessing  that  her  brother  had 
something  to  do  with  it,  forbore  to  speak  at  first.  She 
could  not  contain  her  anxiety  long.  '  Were  you  talking 
with  my  brother  ?  '  she  said. 

'Yes,'  returned  Paula,  with  reservation.  However, 
she  soon  added,  '  He  not  only  wants  to  photograph  his 
ancestors,  but  //ly  portrait  too.  They  are  a  dreadfully 
encroaching  sex,  and  perhaps  being  in  the  army  makes 
them  worse ! ' 

'  I'll  give  him  a  hint,  and  tell  him  to  be  careful.' 

'  Don't  say  I  have  definitely  complained  of  him  ;  it 
is  not  worth  while  to  do  that  ;  the  matter  is  too  triflin<j 
for  repetition.  Upon  the  whole,  Charlotte,  I  would 
rather  you  said  nothing  at  all.' 

De  Stancy's  hobby  of  photographing  his  ancestors 
seemed  to  become  a  perfect  mania  with  him.  Almost 
every  morning  discovered  him  in  the  larger  apartments 
of  the  castle,  taking  down  and  rehanging  the  dilapidated 
pictures,  with  the  assistance  of  the  indispensable  Dare ; 
his  fingers  stained  black  with  dust,  and  his  face  express- 
ing a  busy  attention  to  the  work  in  hand,  though  always 
reserving  a  look  askance  for  the  presence  of  Paula. 

Though  there  was  something  of  subterfuge,  there  was 
no  deep  and  double  subterfuge  in  all  this.  De  Stancy 
took  no  particular  interest  in  his  ancestral  portraits ;  but 
he  was  enamoured  of  Paula  to  weakness.  Perhaps  the 
composition  of  his  love  would  hardly  bear  looking  into, 
but  it  was  recklessly  frank  and  not  quite  mercenary. 
His  photographic  scheme  was  nothing  worse  than  a 
lover's  not  too  scrupulous  contrivance.     After  the  re- 

225  p 


A   LAODICEAN 

fusal  of  his  request  to  copy  her  picture  he  fumed  and 
fretted  at  the  prospect  of  Somerset's  return  before  any 
impression  had  been  made  on  her  heart  by  himself;  he 
swore  at  Dare,  and  asked  him  hotly  why  he  had  dragged 
him  into  such  a  hopeless  dilemma  as  this. 

'  Hopeless  ?  Somerset  must  still  be  kept  away,  so 
that  it  is  not  hopeless.  I  will  consider  how  to  prolong 
his  stay.' 

Thereupon  Dare  considered. 

The  time  was  coming — had  indeed  come — when  it 
was  necessary  for  Paula  to  make  up  her  mind  about  her 
architect,  if  she  meant  to  begin  building  in  the  spring. 
The  two  sets  of  plans,  Somerset's  and  Ha\T.irs,  were 
hanging  on  the  walls  of  the  room  that  had  been  used  by 
Somerset  as  his  studio,  and  were  acessible  by  anybody. 
Dare  took  occasion  to  go  and  study  both  sets,  with  a 
view  to  finding  a  flaw  in  Somerset's  which  might  have 
been  passed  over  unnoticed  by  the  committee  of  archi- 
tects, owing  to  their  absence  from  the  actual  site.  But 
not  a  blunder  could  he  find. 

He  next  went  to  Havill ;  and  here  he  was  met  by  an 
amazing  state  of  affairs.  Havill's  creditors,  at  last  sus- 
pecting something  mythical  in  Havill's  assurance  that 
the  grand  commission  was  his,  had  lost  all  patience; 
his  house  was  turned  upside-down,  and  a  poster  gleamed 
on  the  front  wall,  stating  that  the  excellent  modern 
household  furniture  was  to  be  sold  by  auction  on  Friday 
next.  Troubles  had  apparently  come  in  battalions,  for 
Dare  was  informed  by  a  bystander  that  Havill's  wife  was 
seriously  ill  also. 

Without  staying  for  a  moment  to  enter  his  friend's 
house,  back  went  Mr.  Dare  to  the  castle,  and  told 
Captain  De  Stancy  of  the  architect's  desperate  circum- 
stances, begging  him  to  convey  the  news  in  some  way 
to  Miss  Power.  De  Stancy  promised  to  make  repre- 
sentations in  the  proper  quarter  without  perceiving  that 
he  was  doing  the  best  possible  deed  for  himself  thereby. 

226 


DE   STANCY 

He  told  Paula  of  Havill's  misfortunes  in  the  presence 
of  his  sister,  who  turned  pale.  She  discerned  how  this 
misfortune  would  bear  upon  the  undecided  competition. 

'  Poor  man,'  murmured  Paula.  '  He  was  my  father's 
architect,  and  somehow  expected,  though  I  did  not 
promise  it,  the  work  of  rebuilding  the  castle.' 

Then  De  Stancy  saw  Dare's  aim  in  sending  him  to 
INIiss  Power  with  the  news  ;  and,  seeing  it,  concurred : 
Somerset  was  his  rival,  and  all  was  fair.  '  And  is  he 
not  to  have  the  work  of  the  castle  after  expecting  it  ? ' 
he  asked. 

Paula  was  lost  in  reflection.  '  The  other  architect's 
design  and  Mr.  Havill's  are  exactly  equal  in  merit,  and 
we  cannot  decide  how  to  give  it  to  either,'  explained 
Charlotte. 

'  That  is  our  difficulty,'  Paula  murmured.  '  A  bank- 
rupt, and  his  wife  ill — dear  me !  I  wonder  what's  the 
cause.' 

'  He  has  borrowed  on  the  expectation  of  having  to 
execute  the  castle  works,  and  now  he  is  unable  to  meet 
his  liabilities.' 

'  It  is  very  sad,'  said  Paula. 

'  Let  me  suggest  a  remedy  for  this  dead-lock,'  said 
De  Stancy. 

'  Do,'  said  Paula. 

'  Do  the  work  of  building  in  two  halves  or  sections. 
Give  Havill  the  first  half,  since  he  is  in  need;  when 
that  is  finished  the  second  half  can  be  given  to  your 
London  architect.  If,  as  I  understand,  the  plans  are 
identical  except  in  ornamental  details,  there  will  be  no 
difficulty  about  it  at  all.' 

Paula  sighed — ^just  a  little  one;  and  yet  the  sugges- 
tion seemed  to  satisfy  her  by  its  reasonableness.  She 
turned  sad,  wayward,  but  was  impressed  by  De  Stancy's 
manner  and  words.  She  appeared  indeed  to  have  a 
smouldering  desire  to  please  him.  In  the  afternoon  she 
said  to  Charlotte,  '  I  mean  to  do  as  your  brother  says.' 

227 


A   LAODICEAN 

A  note  was  despatched  to  Havill  that  very  day,  and 
in  an  hour  the  crestfallen  architect  presented  himself  at 
the  castle.  Paula  instantly  gave  him  audience,  com- 
miserated him,  and  commissioned  him  to  carry  out  a 
first  section  of  the  buildings,  comprising  work  to  the 
extent  of  about  twenty  thousand  pounds  expenditure; 
and  then,  with  a  prematureness  quite  amazing  among 
architects'  clients,  she  handed  him  over  a  cheque  for 
five  hundred  pounds  on  account. 

When  he  had  gone,  Paula's  bearing  showed  some 
sign  of  being  disquieted  at  what  she  had  done ;  but  she 
covered  her  mood  under  a  cloak  of  saucy  serenity.  Per- 
haps a  tender  remembrance  of  a  certain  thunderstorm 
in  the  foregoing  August  when  she  stood  with  Somerset 
in  the  arbour,  and  did  not  own  that  she  loved  him,  was 
pressing  on  her  memory  and  bewildering  her.  She  had 
not  seen  quite  clearly,  in  adopting  De  Stancy's  suggestion, 
that  Somerset  would  now  have  no  professional  reason 
for  being  at  the  castle  for  the  next  twelve  months. 

But  the  captain  had,  and  when  Havill  entered  the 
castle  he  rejoiced  with  great  joy.  Dare,  too,  rejoiced 
in  his  cold  way,  and  went  on  with  his  photography, 
saying,  '  The  game  progresses,  captain.' 

'  Game  ?  Call  it  Divine  Comedy,  rather  ! '  said  the 
soldier  exultingly. 

'  He  is  practically  banished  for  a  year  or  more.  What 
can't  you  do  in  a  year,  captain  ! ' 

Havill,  in  the  meantime,  having  respectfully  with- 
drawn from  the  presence  of  Paula,  passed  by  Dare  and 
De  Stancy  in  the  gallery  as  he  had  done  in  entering. 
He  spoke  a  few  words  to  Dare,  who  congratulated  him. 
While  they  were  talking  somebody  was  heard  in  the 
hall,  inquiring  hastily  for  Mr.  Havill. 

'  What  shall  I  tell  him  ? '  demanded  the  porter. 

*  His  wife  is  dead,'  said  the  messenger. 

Havill  overheard  the  words,  and  hastened  away. 

'  An  unlucky  man  ! '  said  Dare. 

228 


DE   STANCY 

'  That,  happily  for  us,  will  not  affect  his  installation 
here,'  said  De  Stancy.  '  Now  hold  your  tongue  and 
keep  at  a  distance.     She  may  come  this  w-ay.' 

Surely  enough  in  a  few  minutes  she  came.  De 
Stancy,  to  make  conversation,  told  her  of  the  new  mis- 
fortune which  had  just  befallen  Mr.  Havill. 

Paula  w'as  very  sorry  to  hear  it,  and  remarked  that 
it  gave  her  great  satisfaction  to  have  appointed  him  as 
architect  of  the  first  wing  before  he  learnt  the  bad  news. 
'  I  owe  you  best  thanks,  Captain  De  Stancy,  for  showing 
me  such  an  expedient.' 

'  Do  I  really  deserve  thanks  ? '  asked  De  Stancy. 
'  I  wish  I  deserved  a  reward  ;  but  I  must  bear  in  mind 
the  fable  of  the  priest  and  the  jester.' 

'  I  never  heard  it.' 

'  The  jester  implored  the  priest  for  alms,  but  the 
smallest  sum  was  refused,  though  the  holy  man  readily 
agreed  to  give  him  his  blessing.     Query,  its  value  ?  ' 

'  How  does  it  apply  ?  ' 

'  You  give  me  unlimited  thanks,  but  deny  me  the 
tiniest  substantial  trifle  I  desire.' 

'  What  persistence  ! '  exclaimed  Paula,  colouring. 
'  Very  well,  if  you  will  photograph  my  picture  you 
must.  It  is  really  not  w'orthy  further  pleading.  Take 
it  when  you  like.' 

^^■hen  Paula  was  alone  she  seemed  vexed  wuth  her- 
self for  having  given  way ;  and  rising  from  her  seat  she 
went  quietly  to  the  door  of  the  room  containing  the 
picture,  intending  to  lock  it  up  till  further  considera- 
tion, whatever  he  might  think  of  her.  But  on  casting 
her  eyes  round  the  apartment  the  painting  was  gone. 
The  captain,  wisely  taking  the  current  when  it  served, 
already  had  it  in  the  gallery,  where  he  was  to  be  seen 
bending  attentively  over  it,  arranging  the  lights  and 
directing  Dare  with  the  instruments.  On  leaving  he 
thanked  her,  and  said  that  he  had  obtained  a  splendid 
copy.     Would  she  look  at  it  ? 

229 


A   LAODICEAN 

Paula  was  severe  and  icy.  '  Thank  you — I  don't 
wish  to  see  it,'  she  said. 

De  Stancy  bowed  and  departed  in  a  glow  of  triumph ; 
satisfied,  notwithstanding  her  frigidity,  that  he  had  com- 
passed his  immediate  aim,  which  was  that  she  might 
not  be  able  to  dismiss  from  her  thoughts  him  and  his 
persevering  desire  for  the  shadow  of  her  face  during  the 
next  four-and-twenty-hours.  And  his  confidence  was 
well  founded  :  she  could  not. 

'  I  fear  this  Divine  Comedy  will  be  slow  business  for 
us,  captain,'  said  Dare,  who  had  heard  her  cold  words. 

'  O  no  ! '  said  De  Stancy,  flushing  a  little :  he  had 
not  been  perceiving  that  the  lad  had  the  measure  of  his 
mind  so  entirely  as  to  gauge  his  position  at  any  moment. 
But  he  would  show  no  shamefacedness.  '  Even  if  it  is, 
my  boy,'  he  answered,  '  there's  plenty  of  time  before  the 
other  can  come.' 

At  that  hour  and  minute  of  De  Stancy's  remark  '  the 
other,'  to  look  at  him,  seemed  indeed  securely  shelved. 
He  was  sitting  lonely  in  his  chambers  far  away,  wonder- 
ing why  she  did  not  write,  and  yet  hoping  to  hear — 
wondering  if  it  had  all  been  but  a  short-lived  strain  of 
tenderness.  He  knew  as  well  as  if  it  had  been  stated 
in  words  that  her  serious  acceptance  of  him  as  a  suitor 
would  be  her  acceptance  of  him  as  an  architect — that 
her  schemes  in  love  would  be  expressed  in  terms  of 
art ;  and  conversely  that  her  refusal  of  him  as  a  lover 
would  be  neatly  effected  by  her  choosing  Havill's  plans 
for  the  castle,  and  returning  his  own  with  thanks.  The 
position  was  so  clear :  he  was  so  well  walled  in  by  cir- 
cumstances that  he  was  absolutely  helpless. 

To  wait  for  the  line  that  would  not  come — the 
letter  saying  that,  as  she  had  desired,  his  was  the 
design  that  pleased  her — was  still  the  only  thing  to 
do.  The  (to  Somerset)  surprising  accident  that  the 
committee  of  architects  should  have  pronounced  the 
designs  absolutely  equal  in  point   of  merit,  and   thus 

230 


DE   STANCY 

have  caused  the  final  choice  to  revert  after  all  to  Paula, 
had  been  a  joyous  thing  to  him  when  he  first  heard 
of  it,  full  of  confidence  in  her  favour.  But  the  fact  of 
her  having  again  become  the  arbitrator,  though  it  had 
made  acceptance  of  his  plans  all  the  more  probable, 
made  refusal  of  them,  should  it  happen,  all  the  more 
crushino:.  He  could  have  conceived  himself  favoured 
by  Paula  as  her  lover,  even  had  the  committee  decided 
in  favour  of  Havill  as  her  architect.  But  not  to  be 
chosen  as  architect  now  was  to  be  rejected  in  both 
kinds. 


A   LAODICEAN 


IV 

It  was  the  Sunday  following  the  funeral  of  Mrs.  Havill, 
news  of  whose  death  had  been  so  unexpectedly  brought 
to  her  husband  at  the  moment  of  his  exit  from  Stancy 
Castle.  The  minister,  as  was  his  custom,  improved  the 
occasion  by  a  couple  of  sermons  on  the  uncertainty  of 
life.  One  was  preached  in  the  morning  in  the  old  chapel 
of  Markton  ;  the  second  at  evening  service  in  the  rural 
chapel  near  Stancy  Castle,  built  by  Paula's  father,  which 
bore  to  the  first  somewhat  the  relation  of  an  episcopal 
chapel-of-ease  to  the  mother  church. 

The  unscreened  lights  blazed  through  the  plate-glass 
windows  of  the  smaller  building  and  outshone  the  steely 
stars  of  the  early  night,  just  as  they  had  done  when 
Somerset  was  attracted  by  their  glare  four  months  before. 
The  fervid  minister's  rhetoric  equalled  its  force  on  that 
more  romantic  occasion  :  but  Paula  was  not  there.  She 
was  not  a  frequent  attendant  now  at  her  father's  votive 
building.  The  mysterious  tank,  whose  dark  waters  had 
so  repelled  her  at  the  last  moment,  was  boarded  over  : 
a  table  stood  on  its  centre,  with  an  open  quarto  Bible 
upon  it ;  behind  which  Havill,  in  a  new  suit  of  black,  sat 
in  a  large  chair.  Havill  held  the  office  of  deacon :  and 
he  had  mechanically  taken  the  deacon's  seat  as  usual 
to-night,  in  the  face  of  the  congregation,  and  under  the 
nose  of  Mr.  Woodwell. 

232 


DE   STANCY 

Mr.  Woodwell  was  always  glad  of  an  opportunity. 
He  was  gifted  with  a  burning  natural  eloquence,  which, 
though  perhaps  a  little  too  freely  employed  in  exciting 
the  '  Wertherism  of  the  uncultivated,'  had  in  it  genuine 
power.  He  was  a  master  of  that  oratory  which  no 
limitation  of  knowledge  can  repress,  and  which  no  train- 
ing can  impart.  The  neighbouring  rector  could  eclipse 
Woodwell's  scholarship,  and  the  freethinker  at  the  corner 
shop  in  IMarkton  could  demolish  his  logic ;  but  the 
Baptist  could  do  in  five  minutes  what  neither  of  these 
had  done  in  a  lifetime ;  he  could  move  some  of  the 
hardest  of  men  to  tears. 

Thus  it  happened  that,  when  the  sermon  was  fairly 
under  way,  Havill  began  to  feel  himself  in  a  trying 
position.  It  was  not  that  he  had  bestowed  much 
affection  upon  his  deceased  wife,  irreproachable  woman 
as  she  had  been ;  but  the  suddenness  of  her  death  had 
shaken  his  nerves,  and  Mr.  Woodwell's  address  on  the 
uncertainty  of  life  involved  considerations  of  conduct 
on  earth  that  bore  wdth  singular  directness  upon  Havill's 
unprincipled  manoeuvre  for  victory  in  the  castle  com- 
petition. He  wished  he  had  not  been  so  inadvertent  as 
to  take  his  customary  chair  in  the  chapel.  People  who 
saw  Havill's  agitation  did  not  know  that  it  was  most 
largely  owing  to  his  sense  of  the  fraud  which  had  been 
practised  on  the  unoffending  Somerset ;  and  when,  un- 
able longer  to  endure  the  torture  of  ^^'oodwel^s  words, 
he  rose  from  his  place  and  went  into  the  chapel  vestry, 
the  preacher  little  thought  that  remorse  for  a  con- 
temptibly unfair  act,  rather  than  grief  for  a  dead  wife, 
was  the  cause  of  the  architect's  withdrawal. 

When  Havill  got  into  the  open  air  his  morbid  excite- 
ment calmed  down,  but  a  sickening  self-abhorrence  for 
the  proceeding  instigated  by  Dare  did  not  abate.  To 
appropriate  another  man's  design  was  no  more  nor  less 
than  to  embezzle  his  money  or  steal  his  goods.  The 
intense  reaction   from  his  conduct  of  the  past  two  or 

233 


A   LAODICEAN 

three  months  did  not  leave  him  Avhen  he  reached  his  own 
house  and  observed  where  the  handbills  of  the  counter- 
manded sale  had  been  torn  down,  as  the  result  of  the 
payment  made  in  advance  by  Paula  of  money  which 
should  really  have  been  Somerset's. 

The  mood  went  on  intensifying  when  he  was  in  bed. 
He  lay  awake  till  the  clock  reached  those  still,  small, 
ghastly  hours  when  the  vital  fires  burn  at  their  lowest  in 
the  human  frame,  and  death  seizes  more  of  his  victims 
than  in  any  other  of  the  twenty-four.  Havill  could  bear 
it  no  longer ;  he  got  a  light,  went  down  into  his  office 
and  wrote  the  note  subjoined. 

'  Madam, — The  recent  death  of  my  wife  necessitates  a  consider- 
able change  in  my  professional  arrangements  and  plans  with  regard 
to  the  future.  One  of  the  chief  results  of  the  change  is,  I  regret  to 
state,  that  I  no  longer  find  myself  in  a  position  to  carry  out  the 
enlargement  of  the  castle  which  you  had  so  generously  entrusted  to 
my  hands. 

'  I  beg  leave  therefore  to  resign  all  further  connection  with  the 
same,  and  to  express,  if  you  will  allow  me,  a  hope  that  the  com- 
mission may  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  other  competitor.  Here- 
with is  returned  a  cheque  for  one-half  of  the  sum  so  kindly  advanced 
in  anticipation  of  the  commission  I  should  receive  ;  the  other  half, 
with  which  I  had  cleared  off  my  immediate  embarrassments  before 
perceiving  the  necessity  for  this  course,  shall  be  returned  to  you  as 
soon  as  some  payments  from  other  clients  drop  in. — I  beg  to  remain, 
Madam,  your  obedient  servant,  James  Havill.' 


Havill  would  not  trust  himself  till  the  morning  to 
post  this  letter.  He  sealed  it  up,  went  out  with  it  into 
the  street,  and  walked  through  the  sleeping  town  to  the 
post-office.  At  the  mouth  of  the  box  he  held  the  letter 
long.  By  dropping  it,  he  was  dropping  at  least  two 
thousand  five  hundred  pounds  which,  however  obtained, 
were  now  securely  his.  It  was  a  great  deal  to  let  go ; 
and  there  he  stood  till  another  wave  of  conscience  bore 
in  upon  his  soul  the  absolute  nature  of  the  theft,  and 
made  him  shudder.     The  footsteps  of  a  solitary  police- 

234 


DE   STANCY 

man  could  be  heard  nearing  him  along  the  deserted 
street ;  hesitation  ended,  and  he  let  the  letter  go. 

"WTien  he  awoke  in  the  morning  he  thought  over  the 
circumstances  by  the  cheerful  light  of  a  low  eastern  sun. 
The  horrors  of  the  situation  seemed  much  less  formid- 
able ;  yet  it  cannot  be  said  that  he  actually  regretted  his 
act.  Later  on  he  walked  out,  with  the  strange  sense  of 
being  a  man  who,  from  one  having  a  large  professional 
undertaking  in  hand,  had,  by  his  own  act,  suddenly 
reduced  himself  to  an  unoccupied  nondescript.  From 
the  upper  end  of  the  town  he  saw  in  the  distance  the 
grand  grey  towers  of  Stancy  Castle  looming  over  the 
leafless  trees  ;  he  felt  stupefied  at  what  he  had  done,  and 
said  to  himself  with  bitter  discontent :  '  Well,  well,  what 
is  more  contemptible  than  a  half-hearted  rogue  ! ' 

That  morning  the  post-bag  had  been  brought  to 
Paula  and  Mrs.  Goodman  in  the  usual  way,  and  Miss 
Power  read  the  letter.  Plis  resignation  was  a  surprise ; 
the  question  whether  he  would  or  would  not  repay  the 
money  was  passed  over;  the  necessity  of  installing 
Somerset  after  all  as  sole  architect  was  an  agitation,  or 
emotion,  the  precise  nature  of  which  it  is  impossible  to 
accurately  define. 

However,  she  went  about  the  house  after  breakfast 
with  very  much  the  manner  of  one  who  had  had  a 
weight  removed  either  from  her  heart  or  from  her 
conscience ;  moreover,  her  face  was  a  little  flushed  when, 
in  passing  by  Somerset's  late  studio,  she  saw  the  plans 
bearing  his  motto,  and  knew  that  his  and  not  Havill's 
would  be  the  presiding  presence  in  the  coming  archi- 
tectural turmoil.  She  went  on  further,  and  called  to 
Charlotte,  who  was  now  regularly  sleeping  in  the  castle, 
to  accompany  her,  and  together  they  ascended  to  the 
telegraph-room  in  the  donjon  tower. 

'  Whom  are  you  going  to  telegraph  to  ? '  said  Miss 
De  Stancy  when  they  stood  by  the  instrument. 

*  My  architect.' 

235 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  O— Mr.  Havill' 

*  Mr.  Somerset.' 

Miss  De  Stancy  had  schooled  her  emotions  on  that 
side  cruelly  well,  and  she  asked  calmly,  '  What,  have  you 
chosen  him  after  all  ?  ' 

'  There  is  no  choice  in  it — read  that,'  said  Paula, 
handing  Havill's  letter,  as  if  she  felt  that  Providence 
had  stepped  in  to  shape  ends  that  she  was  too  undecided 
or  unpractised  to  shape  for  herself. 

'  It  is  very  strange,'  murmured  Charlotte ;  while 
Paula  applied  herself  to  the  machine  and  despatched 
the  words : — 

'Miss  Power,  Stancy  Castle,  to  G.  Somerset,  Esq.,  F.S.A., 
F.R.I.B.A.,  Queen  Anne's  Chambers,  St.  James's. 

'  Your  design  is  accepted  in  its  entirety.  It  will  be  necessary  to 
begin  soon.  I  shall  wish  to  see  and  consult  you  on  the  matter 
about  the  loth  instant.' 

When  the  message  was  fairly  gone  out  of  the  window 
Paula  seemed  still  further  to  expand.  The  strange 
spell  cast  over  her  by  something  or  other — probably  the 
presence  of  De  Stancy,  and  the  weird  romanticism  of 
his  manner  towards  her,  which  was  as  if  the  historic 
past  had  touched  her  with  a  yet  living  hand — in  a  great 
measure  became  dissipated,  leaving  her  the  arch  and 
serene  maiden  that  she  had  been  before. 

About  this  time  Captain  De  Stancy  and  his  Achates 
were  approaching  the  castle,  and  had  arrived  about 
fifty  paces  from  the  spot  at  which  it  was  Dare's  custom 
to  drop  behind  his  companion,  in  order  that  their 
appearance  at  the  lodge  should  be  that  of  master  and 
man. 

Dare  was  saying,  as  he  had  said  before :  *  I  can't 
help  fancying,  captain,  that  your  approach  to  this  castle 
and  its  mistress  is  by  a  very  tedious  system.  Your 
trenches,  zigzags,  counterscarps,  and  ravelins  may  be  all 

236 


DE   STANCY 

very  well,  and  a  very  sure  system  of  attack  in  the  long 
run ;  but  upon  my  soul  they  are  almost  as  slow  in 
maturing  as  those  of  Uncle  Toby  himself.  For  my 
part  I  should  be  inclined  to  try  an  assault.' 

'  Don't  pretend  to  give  advice,  Willy,  on  matters 
beyond  your  years.' 

'  I  only  meant  it  for  your  good,  and  your  proper 
advancement  in  the  world,'  said  Dare  in  wounded  tones. 

'  Different  characters,  different  systems,'  returned  the 
soldier.  '  This  lady  is  of  a  reticent,  independent,  com- 
plicated disposition,  and  any  sudden  proceeding  would 
put  her  on  her  mettle.  You  don't  dream  what  my 
impatience  is,  my  boy.  It  is  a  thing  transcending  your 
utmost  conceptions  !  But  I  proceed  slowly ;  I  know 
better  than  to  do  otherwise.  Thank  God  there  is 
plenty  of  time.  As  long  as  there  is  no  risk  of  Somerset's 
return  my  situation  is  sure.' 

'  And  professional  etiquette  will  prevent  him  coming 
yet.  Havill  and  he  will  change  like  the  men  in  a  sentry- 
box;  when  Havill  walks  out,  he'll  walk  in,  and  not  a 
moment  before.' 

'  That  will  not  be  till  eighteen  months  have  passed. 
And  as  the  Jesuit  said,  "  Time  and  I  against  any  two." 
.  .  .  Now  drop  to  the  rear,'  added  Captain  De  Stancy 
authoritatively.  And  they  passed  under  the  walls  of  the 
castle. 

The  grave  fronts  and  bastions  were  wrapped  in 
silence ;  so  much  so,  that,  standing  awhile  in  the  inner 
ward,  they  could  hear  through  an  open  window  a  faintly 
clicking  sound  from  within. 

'  She's  at  the  telegraph,'  said  Dare,  throwing  forward 
his  voice  softly  to  the  captain.  '  What  can  that  be  for 
so  early  ?  That  wire  is  a  nuisance,  to  my  mind ;  such 
constant  intercourse  with  the  outer  world  is  bad  for  our 
romance.' 

The  speaker  entered  to  arrange  his  photographic 
apparatus,  of  which,  in  truth,  he  was  getting  weary  ;  and 

237 


A   LAODICEAN 

De  Stancy  smoked  on  the  terrace  till  Dare  should  be 
ready.  While  he  waited  his  sister  looked  out  upon  him 
from  an  upper  casement,  having  caught  sight  of  him  as 
she  came  from  Paula  in  the  telegraph-room. 

*  Well,  Lotty,  what  news  this  morning  ? '  he  said 
gaily. 

'  Nothing  of  importance.  We  are  quite  well.'  .  .  . 
She  added  with  hesitation,  *  There  is  one  piece  of 
news ;  Mr.  Havill — but  perhaps  you  have  heard  it  in 
Markton  ? ' 

'  Nothing.' 

'  Mr.  Havill  has  resigned  his  appointment  as  architect 
to  the  castle.' 

'  What  ? — who  has  it,  then  ?  ' 

'  Mr.  Somerset.' 

'  Appointed  ? ' 

'  Yes — by  telegraph.' 

'  When  is  he  coming  ? '  said  De  Stancy  in  consterna- 
tion. 

'  About  the  tenth,  we  think.' 

Charlotte  was  concerned  to  see  her  brother's  face, 
and  withdrew  from  the  window  that  he  might  not 
question  her  further.  De  Stancy  went  into  the  hall,  and 
on  to  the  gallery,  where  Dare  was  standing  as  still  as  a 
caryatid. 

'  I  have  heard  every  word,'  said  Dare. 

*  Well,  what  does  it  mean  ?  Has  that  fool  Havill 
done  it  on  purpose  to  annoy  me  ?  What  conceivable 
reason  can  the  man  have  for  throwing  up  an  appoint- 
ment he  has  worked  so  hard  for,  at  the  moment  he  has 
got  it,  and  in  the  time  of  his  greatest  need  ?  ' 

Dare  guessed,  for  he  had  seen  a  little  way  into 
Havill's  soul  during  the  brief  period  of  their  confederacy. 
But  he  was  very  far  from  saying  what  he  guessed.  Yet 
he  unconsciously  revealed  by  other  words  the  nocturnal 
shades  in  his  character  which  had  made  that  confederacy 
possible. 

238 


DE   STANCY 

*  Somerset  coming  after  all ! '  he  replied.  '  By  God  ! 
that  little  six-barrelled  friend  of  mine,  and  a  good  resolu- 
tion, and  he  would  never  arrive  ! ' 

'  What ! '  said  Captain  De  Stancy,  paling  with  horror 
as  he  gathered  the  other's  sinister  meaning. 

Dare  instantly  recollected  himself.  '  One  is  tempted 
to  say  anything  at  such  a  moment,'  he  replied  hastily. 

'  Since  he  is  to  come,  let  him  come,  for  me,'  con- 
tinued De  Stancy,  with  reactionary  distinctness,  and 
still  gazing  gravely  into  the  young  man's  face.  '  The 
battle  shall  be  fairly  fought  out.  Fair  play,  even  to  a 
rival — remember  that,  boy.  .  .  .  Why  are  you  here  ? — 
unnaturally  concerning  yourself  with  the  passions  of  a 
man  of  my  age,  as  if  you  were  the  parent,  and  I  the 
son?  Would  to  heaven,  Willy,  you  had  done  as  I 
wished  you  to  do,  and  led  the  life  of  a  steady,  thought- 
ful young  man !  Instead  of  meddling  here,  you  should 
now  have  been  in  some  studio,  college,  or  professional 
man's  chambers,  engaged  in  a  useful  pursuit  which 
might  have  made  one  proud  to  own  you.  But  you 
were  so  precocious  and  headstrong ;  and  this  is  what 
you  have  come  to  :  you  promise  to  be  worthless  ! ' 

'  I  think  I  shall  go  to  my  lodgings  to-day  instead  of 
staying  here  over  these  pictures,'  said  Dare,  after  a 
silence,  during  which  Captain  De  Stancy  endeavoured 
to  calm  himself.  '  I  was  going  to  tell  you  that  my 
dinner  to-day  will  unfortunately  be  one  of  herbs,  for 
want  of  the  needful.  I  have  come  to  my  last  stiver. — 
You  dine  at  the  mess,  I  suppose,  captain  ? ' 

De  Stancy  had  walked  away ;  but  Dare  knew  that  he 
played  a  pretty  sure  card  in  that  speech.  De  Stancy's 
heart  could  not  withstand  the  suggested  contrast  between 
a  lonely  meal  of  bread-and-cheese  and  a  well-ordered 
dinner  amid  cheerful  companions. — '  Here,'  he  said, 
emptying  his  pocket  and  returning  to  the  lad's  side. 
'  Take  this,  and  order  yourself  a  good  meal.  You  keep 
me  as  poor  as  a  crow.     There  shall  be  more  to-morrow.' 

239 


A   LAODICEAN 

The  peculiarly  bifold  nature  of  Captain  De  Stancy, 
as  shown  in  his  conduct  at  different  times,  was  some- 
thing rare  in  life,  and  perhaps  happily  so.  That 
mechanical  admixture  of  black  and  white  qualities 
without  coalescence,  on  which  the  theory  of  men's 
characters  was  based  by  moral  analysis  before  the  rise 
of  modern  ethical  schools,  fictitious  as  it  was  in  general 
application,  would  have  almost  hit  off  the  truth  as 
regards  Captain  De  Stancy.  Removed  to  some  half- 
known  century,  his  deeds  would  have  won  a  picturesque- 
ness  of  light  and  shade  that  might  have  made  him 
a  fascinating  subject  for  some  gallery  of  illustrious 
historical  personages.  It  was  this  tendency  to  moral 
chequer-work  which  accounted  for  his  varied  bearings 
towards  Dare. 

Dare  withdrew  to  take  his  departure.  When  he  had 
gone  a  few  steps,  despondent,  he  suddenly  turned,  and 
ran  back  with  some  excitement. 

'  Captain — he's  coming  on  the  tenth,  don't  they  say  ? 
Well,  four  days  before  the  tenth  comes  the  sixth.  Have 
you  forgotten  what's  fixed  for  the  sixth  ? ' 

'  I  had  quite  forgotten  ! ' 

'  That  day  will  be  worth  three  months  of  quiet 
attentions :  with  luck,  skill,  and  a  bold  heart,  what 
mayn't  you  do  ?  ' 

Captain  De  Stancy's  face  softened  with  satisfaction. 

'  There  is  something  in  that ;  the  game  is  not  up 
after  all.  The  sixth — it  had  gone  clean  out  of  my  head, 
by  gad ! ' 


DE   STANCY 


1  HE  cheering  message  from  Paula  to  Somerset  sped 
through  the  loophole  of  Stancy  Castle  keep,  over  the 
trees,  along  the  railway,  under  bridges,  across  four 
counties — from  extreme  antiquity  of  environment  to 
sheer  modernism — and  finally  landed  itself  on  a  table  in 
Somerset's  chambers  in  the  midst  of  a  cloud  of  fog. 
He  read  it  and,  in  the  moment  of  reaction  from  the 
depression  of  his  past  days,  clapped  his  hands  like  a 
child. 

Then  he  considered  the  date  at  which  she  wanted  to 
see  him.  Had  she  so  worded  her  despatch  he  would 
have  gone  that  very  day;  but  there  was  nothing  to 
complain  of  in  her  giving  him  a  week's  notice.  Pure 
maiden  modesty  might  have  checked  her  indulgence  in 
a  too  ardent  recall. 

Time,  however,  dragged  somewhat  heavily  along  in 
the  interim,  and  on  the  second  day  he  thought  he  would 
call  on  his  father  and  tell  him  of  his  success  in  obtaining 
the  appointment. 

The  elder  Mr.  Somerset  lived  in  a  detached  house 
in  the  north-west  part  of  fashionable  London ;  and 
ascending  the  chief  staircase  the  young  man  branched 
off  from  the  first  landing  and  entered  his  father's 
painting-room.  It  was  an  hour  when  he  was  pretty 
sure   of  finding  the  well-known   painter  at  work,  and 

241  Q 


A    LAODICEAN 

on  lifting  the  tapestry  he  was  not  disappointed,  Mr. 
Somerset  being  busily  engaged  with  his  back  towards 
the  door. 

Art  and  vitiated  nature  were  struggling  like  wrestlers 
in  that  apartment,  and  art  was  getting  the  worst  of  it. 
The  overpowering  gloom  pervading  the  clammy  air, 
rendered  still  more  intense  by  the  height  of  the  window 
from  the  floor,  reduced  all  the  pictures  that  were 
standing  around  to  the  wizened  feebleness  of  corpses 
on  end.  The  shadowy  parts  of  the  room  behind  the 
different  easels  were  veiled  in  a  brown  vapour,  precluding 
all  estimate  of  the  extent  of  the  studio,  and  only  sub- 
dued in  the  foreground  by  the  ruddy  glare  from  an  open 
stove  of  Dutch  tiles.  Somerset's  footsteps  had  been  so 
noiseless  over  the  carpeting  of  the  stairs  and  landing, 
that  his  father  was  unaware  of  his  presence ;  he  con- 
tinued at  his  work  as  before,  which  he  performed  by  the 
help  of  a  complicated  apparatus  of  lamps,  candles,  and 
reflectors,  so  arranged  as  to  eke  out  the  miserable  day- 
light to  a  power  apparently  sufficient  for  the  neutral 
touches  on  which  he  was  at  that  moment  engaged. 

The  first  thought  of  an  unsophisticated  stranger  on 
entering  that  room  could  only  be  the  amazed  inquiry 
why  a  professor  of  the  art  of  colour,  which  beyond  all 
other  arts  requires  pure  daylight  for  its  exercise,  should 
fix  himself  on  the  single  square  league  in  habitable 
Europe  to  which  light  is  denied  at  noonday  for  weeks 
in  succession. 

'  O  !  it's  you,  George,  is  it  ?  '  said  the  Academician, 
turning  from  the  lamps,  which  shone  over  his  bald 
crown  at  such  a  slant  as  to  reveal  every  cranial  irre- 
gularit)^  '  How  are  you  this  morning  ?  Still  a  dead 
silence  about  your  grand  castle  competition  ?  ' 

Somerset  told  the  news.  His  father  duly  congratu- 
lated him,  and  added  genially,  '  It  is  well  to  be  you, 
George.  One  large  conimission  to  attend  to,  and 
nothing   to   distract  you   from   it.     I   am   bothered  by 

242 


DE   STANCY 

having  a  dozen  irons  in  the  fire  at  once.  And  people 
are  so  unreasonable. — Only  this  morning,  among  other 
things,  when  you  got  your  order  to  go  on  with  your 
single  study,  I  received  a  letter  fi-om  a  woman,  an  old 
friend  whom  I  can  scarcely  refuse,  begging  me  as  a 
great  favour  to  design  her  a  set  of  theatrical  costumes, 
in  which  she  and  her  friends  can  perform  for  some 
charity.  It  would  occupy  me  a  good  week  to  go  into 
the  subject  and  do  the  thing  properly.  Such  are  the 
sort  of  letters  I  get.  I  wish,  George,  you  could  knock 
out  something  for  her  before  you  leave  town.  It  is 
positively  impossible  for  me  to  do  it  with  all  this  work 
in  hand,  and  these  eternal  fogs  to  contend  against.' 

'  I  fear  costumes  are  rather  out  of  my  line,'  said  the 
son.  '  However,  I'll  do  what  I  can.  What  period  and 
country  are  they  to  represent  ?  ' 

His  father  didn't  know.  He  had  never  looked  at 
the  play  of  late  years.  It  was  '  Love's  Labour's  Lost.' 
'  You  had  better  read  it  for  yourself,'  he  said,  '  and  do 
the  best  you  can.' 

During  the  morning  Somerset  junior  found  time  to 
refresh  his  memory  of  the  play,  and  afterwards  went 
and  hunted  up  materials  for  designs  to  suit  the  same, 
which  occupied  his  spare  hours  for  the  next  three  days. 
As  these  occupations  made  no  great  demands  upon  his 
reasoning  faculties  he  mostly  found  his  mind  wandering 
off  to  imaginary  scenes  at  Stancy  Castle  :  particularly 
did  he  dwell  at  this  time  upon  Paula's  lively  interest 
in  the  history,  relics,  tombs,  architecture, — nay,  the  very 
Christian  names  of  the  De  Stancy  line,  and  her  '  artistic  ' 
preference  for  Charlotte's  ancestors  instead  of  her  own. 
Yet  what  more  natural  than  that  a  clever  meditntive 
girl,  encased  in  the  feudal  lumber  of  that  family,  should 
imbibe  at  least  an  anticjuarian  interest  in  it?  Human 
nature  at  bottom  is  romantic  rather  than  ascetic,  and 
the  local  habitation  which  accident  had  provided  for 
Paula  was   perhaps   acting  as   a  solvent   of  the  hard_, 

243 


A   LAODICEAN 

morbidly  introspective  views  thrust  upon  her  in  early 
life. 

Somerset  wondered  if  his  own  possession  of  a  sub- 
stantial genealogy  like  Captain  De  Stancy's  would  have 
had  any  appreciable  effect  upon  her  regard  for  him. 
His  suggestion  to  Paula  of  her  belonging  to  a  worthy 
strain  of  engineers  had  been  based  on  his  content  with 
his  own  intellectual  line  of  descent  through  Pheidias, 
Ictinus  and  Callicrates,  Chersiphron,  Vitruvius,  Wilars 
of  Cambray,  William  of  Wykeham,  and  the  rest  of  that 
long  and  illustrious  roll ;  but  Miss  Power's  marked 
preference  for  an  animal  pedigree  led  him  to  muse  on 
what  he  could  show  for  himself  in  that  kind. 

These  thoughts  so  far  occupied  him  that  when  he 
took  the  sketches  to  his  father,  on  the  morning  of  the 
fifth,  he  was  led  to  ask :  '  Has  any  one  ever  sifted  out 
our  family  pedigree  ? ' 

'  Family  pedigree  ?  ' 

'  Yes.  Have  we  any  pedigree  worthy  to  be  compared 
with  that  of  professedly  old  families  ?  I  never  remember 
hearing  of  any  ancestor  further  back  than  my  great- 
grandfather.' 

Somerset  the  elder  reflected  and  said  that  he  believed 
there  was  a  genealogical  tree  about  the  house  some- 
where, reaching  back  to  a  very  respectable  distance. 
'  Not  that  I  ever  took  much  interest  in  it,'  he  continued, 
without  looking  up  from  his  canvas  ;  '  but  your  great 
uncle  John  was  a  man  with  a  taste  for  those  subjects, 
and  he  drew  up  such  a  sheet :  he  niade  several  copies 
on  parchment,  and  gave  one  to  each  of  his  brothers 
and  sisters.  The  one  he  gave  to  my  father  is  still  in 
my  possession,  I  think.' 

Somerset  said  that  he  should  like  to  see  it;  but 
half-an-hour's  search  about  the  house  failed  to  discover 
the  document ;  and  the  Academician  then  remembered 
that  it  was  in  an  iron  box  at  his  banker's.  He  had 
used  it  as  a  wrapper  for  some   title-deeds  and  other 

244 


DE   STANCY 

valuable  writings  which  were  deposited  there  for  safety. 
'  \V'hy  do  you  want  it  ?  '  he  inquired. 

The  young  man  confessed  his  whim  to  know  if  his 
own  antiquity  would  bear  comparison  with  that  of 
another  person,  whose  name  he  did  not  mention ; 
whereupon  his  father  gave  him  a  key  that  would  fit 
the  said  chest,  if  he  meant  to  pursue  the  subject 
further.  Somerset,  however,  did  nothing  in  the  matter 
that  day,  but  the  next  morning,  having  to  call  at  the 
bank  on  other  business,  he  remembered  his  new  fancy. 

It  was  about  eleven  o'clock.  The  fog,  though  not 
so  brown  as  it  had  been  on  previous  days,  was  still 
dense  enough  to  necessitate  lights  in  the  shops  and 
offices.  When  Somerset  had  finished  his  business  in 
the  outer  office  of  the  bank  he  went  to  the  manager's 
room.  The  hour  being  somewhat  early  the  only 
persons  present  in  that  sanctuary  of  balances,  besides 
the  manager  who  welcomed  him,  were  two  gentlemen, 
apparently  lawyers,  who  sat  talking  earnestly  over  a  box 
of  papers.  The  manager,  on  learning  what  Somerset 
wanted,  unlocked  a  door  from  which  a  flight  of  stone 
steps  led  to  the  vaults,  and  sent  down  a  clerk  and  a 
porter  for  the  safe. 

Before,  however,  they  had  descended  far  a  gentle 
tap  came  to  the  door,  and  in  response  to  an  invitation 
to  enter  a  lady  appeared,  wrapped  up  in  furs  to  her 
very  nose. 

The  manager  seemed  to  recognize  her,  for  he  went 
across  the  room  in  a  moment,  and  set  her  a  chair  at  the 
middle  table,  replying  to  some  observation  of  hers  with 
the  words,  '  O  yes,  certainly,'  in  a  deferential  tone. 

'  I  should  like  it  brought  up  at  once,'  said  the  lady. 

Somerset,  who  had  seated  himself  at  a  table  in  a 
somewhat  obscure  corner,  screened  by  the  lawyers, 
started  at  the  words.  The  voice  was  Miss  Power's, 
and  so  plainly  enough  was  the  figure  as  soon  as  he 
examined  it.     Her  back  was   towards  him,  and  either 

245 


A   LAODICEAN 

because  the  room  was  only  lighted  in  two  places,  or 
because  she  was  absorbed  in  her  own  concerns,  she 
seemed  to  be  unconscious  of  any  one's  presence  on 
the  scene  except  the  banker  and  herself.  The  former 
called  back  the  clerk,  and  two  other  porters  having 
been  summoned  they  disappeared  to  get  whatever  she 
required. 

Somerset,  somewhat  excited,  sat  wondering  what 
could  have  brought  Paula  to  London  at  this  juncture, 
and  was  in  some  doubt  if  the  occasion  were  a  suitable 
one  for  revealing  himself,  her  errand  to  her  banker 
being  possibly  of  a  very  private  nature.  Nothing 
helped  him  to  a  decision.  Paula  never  once  turned 
her  head,  and  the  progress  of  time  was  marked  only 
by  the  murmurs  of  the  two  lawyers,  and  the  cease- 
less clash  of  gold  and  rattle  of  scales  from  the  outer 
room,  where  the  busy  heads  of  cashiers  could  be  seen 
through  the  partition  moving  about  under  the  globes  of 
the  gas-lamp:3. 

Footsteps  were  heard  upon  the  cellar-steps,  and  the 
three  men  previously  sent  below  staggered  from  the 
doorway,  bearing  a  huge  safe  which  nearly  broke  them 
down.  Somerset  knew  that  his  father's  box,  or  boxes, 
could  boast  of  no  such  dimensions,  and  he  was  not 
surprised  to  see  the  chest  deposited  in  front  of  Miss 
Power.  When  the  immense  accumulation  of  dust  had 
been  cleared  off  the  lid,  and  the  chest  conveniently 
placed  for  her,  Somerset  was  attended  to,  his  modest 
box  being  brought  up  by  one  man  unassisted,  and 
without  much  expenditure  of  breath. 

His  interest  in  Paula  was  of  so  emotional  a  cast 
that  his  attention  to  his  own  errand  was  of  the  most 
perfunctory  kind.  She  was  close  to  a  gas-standard, 
and  the  lawyers,  whose  seats  had  intervened,  having 
finished  their  business  and  gone  away,  all  her  actions 
were  visible  to  him.  While  he  was  opening  his  father's 
box  the  manager  assisted  Paula  to  unseal  and  unlock 

246 


DE   STANCY 

hers,  and  he  now  saw  her  lift  from  it  a  morocco  case, 
which  she  placed  on  the  table  before  her,  and  unfastened. 
Out  of  it  she  took  a  dazzling  object  that  fell  like  a 
cascade  over  her  fingers.  It  was  a  necklace  of  diamonds 
and  pearls,  apparently  of  large  size  and  many  strands, 
though  he  was  not  near  enough  to  see  distinctly.  When 
satisfied  by  her  examination  that  she  had  got  the  right 
article  she  shut  it  into  its  case. 

The  manager  closed  the  chest  for  her ;  and  when  it 
was  again  secured  Paula  arose,  tossed  the  necklace  into 
her  hand-bag,  bowed  to  the  manager,  and  was  about  to 
bid  him  good  morning.  Thereupon  he  said  with  some 
hesitation:  'Pardon  one  question.  Miss  Power.  Do 
you  intend  to  take  those  jewels  far  ?  ' 

'  Yes,'  she  said  simply,  '  to  Stancy  Castle.' 

'  You  are  going  straight  there  ?  ' 

'  I  have  one  or  two  places  to  call  at  first.' 

'  I  would  suggest  that  you  carry  them  in  some  other 
way — by  fastening  them  into  the  pocket  of  your  dress, 
for  instance.' 

'  But  I  am  going  to  hold  the  bag  in  my  hand  and 
never  once  let  it  go.' 

The  banker  slightly  shook  his  head.  '  Suppose  your 
carriage  gets  overturned  :  you  would  let  it  go  then.' 

'  Perhaps  so.' 

'  Or  if  you  saw  a  child  under  the  wheels  just  as  you 
were  stepping  in;  or  if  you  accidentally  stumbled  in 
getting  out ;  or  if  there  was  a  collision  on  the  railway — 
you  might  let  it  go.' 

'  Yes ;  I  see  I  was  too  careless.     I  thank  you.' 

Paula  removed  the  necklace  from  the  bag,  turned 
her  back  to  the  manager,  and  spent  several  minutes  in 
placing  her  treasure  in  her  bosom,  pinning  it  and  other- 
wise making  it  absolutely  secure. 

'  That's  it,'  said  the  grey-haired  man  of  caution,  with 
evident  satisfaction.  '  There  is  not  much  danger  now  : 
you  are  not  travelling  alone  ?  ' 

247 


A   LAODICEAN 

Paula  replied  that  she  was  not  alone,  and  went  to  the 
door.  There  was  one  moment  during  which  Somerset 
might  have  conveniently  made  his  presence  known ;  but 
the  juxtaposition  of  the  bank-manager,  and  his  own  dis- 
arranged box  of  securities,  embarrassed  him:  the  moment 
slipped  by,  and  she  was  gone. 

In  the  meantime  he  had  mechanically  unearthed  the 
pedigree,  and,  locking  up  his  father's  chest,  Somerset 
also  took  his  departure  at  the  heels  of  Paula.  He 
walked  along  the  misty  street,  so  deeply  musing  as  to 
be  quite  unconscious  of  the  direction  of  his  walk.  What, 
he  inquired  of  himself,  could  she  want  that  necklace 
for  so  suddenly  ?  He  recollected  a  remark  of  Dare's  to 
the  effect  that  her  appearance  on  a  particular  occasion 
at  Stancy  Castle  had  been  magnificent  by  reason  of  the 
jewels  she  wore ;  which  proved  that  she  had  retained  a 
sufificient  quantity  of  those  valuables  at  the  castle  for 
ordinary  requirements.  What  exceptional  occasion, 
then,  was  impending  on  which  she  wished  to  glorify 
herself  beyond  all  previous  experience  ?  He  could  not 
guess.  He  was  interrupted  in  these  conjectures  by  a 
carriage  nearly  passing  over  his  toes  at  a  crossing  in 
Bond  Street :  looking  up  he  saw  between  the  two 
windows  of  the  vehicle  the  profile  of  a  thickly  mantled 
bosom,  on  which  a  camelia  rose  and  fell.  All  the  re- 
mainder part  of  the  lady's  person  was  hidden  ;  but  he 
remembered  that  flower  of  convenient  season  as  one 
which  had  figured  in  the  bank  parlour  half-an-hour 
earlier  to-day. 

Somerset  hastened  after  the  carriage,  and  in  a  minute 
saw  it  stop  opposite  a  jeweller's  shop.  Out  came  Paula, 
and  then  another  woman,  in  whom  he  recognized  Mrs. 
Birch,  one  of  the  lady's  maids  at  Stancy  Castle.  The 
young  man  was  at  Paula's  side  before  she  had  crossed 
the  pavement. 


DE   STANCY 


VI 

A  QUICK  arrested  expression  in  her  two  sapphirine 
eyes,  accompanied  by  a  little,  a  very  little,  blush  which 
loitered  long,  was  all  the  outward  disturbance  that  the 
sight  of  her  lover  caused.  The  habit  of  self-repression 
at  any  new  emotional  impact  was  instinctive  with  her 
always.  Somerset  could  not  say  more  than  a  word ;  he 
looked  his  intense  solicitude,  and  Paula  spoke. 

She  declared  that  this  was  an  unexpected  pleasure. 
Had  he  arranged  to  come  on  the  tenth  as  she  wished  ? 
How  strange  that  they  should  meet  thus  ! — and  yet  not 
strange — the  world  was  so  small. 

Somerset  said  that  he  was  coming  on  the  very  day 
she  mentioned — that  the  appointment  gave  him  infinite 
gratification,  which  was  quite  within  the  truth. 

'  Come  into  this  shop  with  me,'  said  Paula,  with 
good-humoured  authoritativeness. 

They  entered  the  shop  and  talked  on  while  she  made 
a  small  purchase.  Rut  not  a  word  did  Paula  say  of  her 
sudden  errand  to  town. 

'  I  am  having  an  exciting  morning,'  she  said.  '  I 
am  going  from  here  to  catch  the  one-o'clock  train  to 
Markton.' 

*  It  is  important  that  you  get  there  this  afternoon,  I 
suppose  ? ' 

'  Yes,     You  know  why  ? ' 

249 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  Not  at  all.' 

'  The  Hunt  Ball.  It  was  fixed  for  the  sixth,  and  this 
is  the  sixth.     I  thought  they  might  have  asked  you.' 

'  No,'  said  Somerset,  a  trifle  gloomily.  '  No,  I  am 
not  asked.  But  it  is  a  great  task  for  you — a  long 
journey  and  a  ball  all  in  one  day.' 

'  Yes  :  Charlotte  said  that.     But  I  don't  mind  it.' 

'  You  are  glad  you  are  going.  Are  you  glad  ? '  he 
said  softly. 

Her  air  confessed  more  than  her  words.  '  I  am  not 
so  very  glad  that  I  am  going  to  the  Hunt  Ball,'  she 
replied  confidentially. 

'  Thanks  for  that,'  said  he. 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  for  a  moment.  Her 
manner  had  suddenly  become  so  nearly  the  counterpart 
of  that  in  the  tea-house  that  to  suspect  any  deterioration 
of  affection  in  her  was  no  longer  generous.  It  was  only 
as  if  a  thin  layer  of  recent  events  had  overlaid  her 
memories  of  him,  until  his  presence  swept  them  away. 

Somerset  looked  up,  and  finding  the  shopman  to  be 
still  some  way  off,  he  added,  '  When  will  you  assure  me 
of  something  in  return  for  what  I  assured  you  that 
evening  in  the  rain  ?  ' 

'  Not  before  you  have  built  the  castle.  My  aunt  does 
not  know  about  it  yet,  nor  anybody.' 

'  I  ought  to  tell  her.' 

'  No,  not  yet.     I  don't  wish  it.' 

'  Then  everything  stands  as  usual  ? ' 

She  lightly  nodded. 

'  That  is,  I  may  love  you  :  but  you  still  will  not  say 
you  love  me.' 

She  nodded  again,  and  directing  his  attention  to  the 
advancing  shopman,  said,  '  Please  not  a  word  more.' 

Soon  after  this,  they  left  the  jeweller's,  and  parted, 
Paula  driving  straight  off  to  the  station  and  Somerset 
going  on  his  way  uncertainly  happy.  His  re-impression 
after  a  few  minutes  was  that  a  special  journey  to  town 

250 


DE   STANCY 

to  fetch  that  magnificent  necklace  which  she  had  not 
once  mentioned  to  him,  but  which  was  plainly  to  be 
the  medium  of  some  proud  purpose  with  her  this 
evening,  was  hardly  in  harmony  with  her  assertions  of 
indifference  to  the  attractions  of  the  Hunt  Ball. 

He  got  into  a  cab  and  drove  to  his  club,  where 
he  lunched,  and  mopingly  spent  a  great  part  of  the 
afternoon  in  making  calculations  for  the  foundations  of 
the  castle  works.  Later  in  the  afternoon  he  returned  to 
his  chambers,  wishing  that  he  could  annihilate  the  three 
days  remaining  before  the  tenth,  particularly  this  coming 
evening.  On  his  table  was  a  letter  in  a  strange  writing, 
and  indifferently  turning  it  over  he  found  from  the 
superscription  that  it  had  been  addressed  to  him  days 
before  at  the  Lord-Quantock-Arms  Hotel,  Markton, 
where  it  had  lain  ever  since,  the  landlord  probably 
expecting  him  to  return.  Opening  the  missive,  he 
found  to  his  surprise  that  it  was,  after  all,  an  invitation 
to  the  Hunt  Ball. 

'  Too  late  ! '  said  Somerset.  '  To  think  I  should  be 
served  this  trick  a  second  time  ! ' 

After  a  moment's  pause,  however,  he  looked  to  see 
the  time  of  day.  It  was  five  minutes  past  five — ^just 
about  the  hour  when  Paula  would  be  driving  from 
Markton  Station  to  Stancy  Castle  to  rest  and  prepare 
herself  for  her  evening  trium.ph.  There  was  a  train  at 
six  o'clock,  timed  to  reach  Markton  between  eleven  and 
twelve,  which  by  great  exertion  he  might  save  even  now, 
if  it  were  worth  while  to  undertake  such  a  scramble  for 
the  pleasure  of  dropping  in  to  the  ball  at  a  late  hour. 
A  moment's  vision  of  Paula  moving  to  swift  tunes  on 
the  arm  of  a  person  or  persons  unknown  was  enough  to 
impart  the  impetus  required.  He  jumped  up,  flung  his 
dress  clothes  into  a  portmanteau,  sent  down  to  call  a 
cab,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  rattling  off"  to  the  railway 
which  had  borne  Paula  away  from  London  just  five 
hours  earlier. 

251 


A   LAODICEAN 

Once  in  the  train,  he  began  to  consider  \vhere  and 
how  he  could  most  conveniently  dress  for  the  dance. 
The  train  would  certainly  be  half-an-hour  late ;  half-an- 
hour  would  be  spent  in  getting  to  the  town-hall,  and 
that  was  the  utmost  delay  tolerable  if  he  would  secure 
the  hand  of  Paula  for  one  spin,  or  be  more  than  a  mere 
dummy  behind  the  earlier  arrivals.  He  looked  for  an 
empty  compartment  at  the  next  stoppage,  and  finding 
the  one  next  his  own  unoccupied,  he  entered  it  and 
changed  his  raiment  for  that  in  his  portmanteau  during 
the  ensuing  run  of  twenty  miles. 

Thus  prepared  he  awaited  the  Markton  platform, 
which  was  reached  as  the  clock  struck  twelve.  Somerset 
called  a  fly  and  drove  at  once  to  the  town-hall. 

The  borough  natives  had  ascended  to  their  upper 
floors,  and  were  putting  out  their  candles  one  by  one 
as  he  passed  along  the  streets ;  but  the  lively  strains 
that  proceeded  from  the  central  edifice  revealed  dis- 
tinctly enough  what  was  going  on  among  the  temporary 
visitors  from  the  neighbouring  manors.  The  doors 
were  opened  for  him,  and  entering  the  vestibule  lined 
with  flags,  flowers,  evergreens,  and  escutcheons,  he  stood 
looking  into  the  furnace  of  gaiety  beyond. 

It  was  some  time  before  he  could  gather  his  impres- 
sions of  the  scene,  so  perplexing  were  the  lights,  the 
motions,  the  toilets,  the  full-dress  uniforms  of  officers 
and  the  harmonies  of  sound.  Yet  light,  sound,  and 
movement  were  not  so  much  the  essence  of  that  giddy 
scene  as  an  intense  aim  at  obliviousness  in  the  beings 
composing  it.  For  two  or  three  hours  at  least  those 
whirling  young  people  meant  not  to  know  that  they 
were  mortal.  The  room  was  beating  like  a  heart,  and 
the  pulse  was  regulated  by  the  trembling  strings  of  the 
most  popular  quadrille  band  in  Wessex.  But  at  last  his 
eyes  grew  settled  enough  to  look  critically  around. 

The  room  was  crowded  —  too  crowded.  Every 
variety  of  fair  one,  beauties    primary,  secondary,    and 

252 


DE   STANCY 

tertiary,  appeared  among  the  personages  composing  the 
throng.  There  were  suns  and  moons  ;  also  pale  planets 
of  little  account.  Broadly  speaking,  these  daughters  of 
the  county  fell  into  two  classes  :  one  the  pink-faced  unso- 
phisticated girls  from  neighbouring  rectories  and  small 
country-houses,  who  knew  not  town  except  for  an  occa- 
sional fortnight,  and  who  spent  their  time  from  Easter 
to  Lammas  Day  much  as  they  spent  it  during  the 
remaining  nine  months  of  the  year  :  the  other  class  were 
the  children  of  the  wealthy  landowners  who  migrated 
each  season  to  the  town-house;  these  were  pale  and 
collected,  showed  less  enjoyment  in  their  countenances, 
and  wore  in  general  an  approximation  to  the  languid 
manners  of  the  capital. 

A  quadrille  was  in  progress,  and  Somerset  scanned 
each  set.  His  mind  had  run  so  long  upon  the  neck- 
lace, that  his  glance  involuntarily  sought  out  that  gleam- 
ing object  rather  than  the  personality  of  its  wearer.  At 
the  top  of  the  room  there  he  beheld  it ;  but  it  was  on 
the  neck  of  Charlotte  De  Stancy. 

The  whole  lucid  explanation  broke  across  his  under- 
standing in  a  second.  His  dear  Paula  had  fetched  the 
necklace  that  Charlotte  should  not  appear  to  disadvan- 
tage among  the  county  people  by  reason  of  her  poverty. 
It  was  generously  done — a  disinterested  act  of  sisterly 
kindness ;  theirs  was  the  friendship  of  Hermia  and 
Helena.  Before  he  had  got  further  than  to  realize  this, 
there  wheeled  round  amongst  the  dancers  a  lady  whose 
iourtiure  he  recognized  well.  She  was  Paula ;  and  to 
the  young  man's  vision  a  superlative  something  dis- 
tinguished her  from  all  the  rest.  This  was  not  dress 
or  ornament,  for  she  had  hardly  a  gem  upon  her,  her 
attire  being  a  model  of  effective  simplicity.  Her  partner 
was  Captain  De  Stancy. 

The  discovery  of  this  latter  fact  slightly  obscured  his 
appreciation  of  what  he  had  discovered  just  before.  It 
was  with  rather  a  lowering  brow  that  he  asked  himself 

253 


A   LAODICEAN 

whether  Paula's  predilection  d' artiste,  as  she  called  it,  for 
the  De  Stancy  line  might  not  lead  to  a  predilection  of  a 
different  sort  for  its  last  representative  which  would  be 
not  at  all  satisfactory. 

The  architect  remained  in  the  background  till  the 
dance  drew  to  a  conclusion,  and  then  he  went  forward. 
The  circumstance  of  having  met  him  by  accident  once 
already  that  day  seemed  to  quench  any  surprise  in  Miss 
Power's  bosom  at  seeing  him  now.  There  was  nothing 
in  her  parting  from  Captain  De  Stancy,  when  he  led 
her  to  a  seat,  calculated  to  make  Somerset  uneasy 
after  his  long  absence.  Though,  for  that  matter,  this 
proved  nothing-  for,  like  all  wise  maidens,  Paula 
never  ventured  on  the  game  of  the  eyes  with  a  lover 
in  public;  well  knowing  that  every  moment  of  such 
indulgence  overnight  might  mean  an  hour's  sneer  at 
her  expense  by  the  indulged  gentleman  next  day,  when 
weighing  womankind  by  the  aid  of  a  cold  morning  light 
and  a  bad  headache. 

While  Somerset  was  explaining  to  Paula  and  her 
aunt  the  reason  of  his  sudden  appearance,  their  atten- 
tion v.-as  drawn  to  a  seat  a  short  way  off  by  a  fluttering 
of  ladies  round  the  spot.  In  a  moment  it  was  whispered 
that  somebody  had  fallen  ill,  and  in  another  that  the 
sufferer  was  Miss  De  Stancy.  Paula,  Mrs.  Goodman,  and 
Somerset  at  once  joined  the  group  of  friends  who  were 
assisting  her.  Neither  of  them  imagined  for  an  instant 
that  the  unexpected  advent  of  Somerset  on  the  scene 
had  anything  to  do  with  the  poor  girl's  indisposition. 

She  was  assisted  out  of  the  room,  and  her  brother, 
who  now  came  up,  prepared  to  take  her  home,  Somer- 
set exchanging  a  few  civil  words  with  him,  which  the 
hurry  of  the  moment  prevented  them  from  continuing ; 
though  on  taking  his  leave  with  Charlotte,  who  was  now 
better,  De  Stancy  informed  Somerset  in  answer  to  a 
cursory  inquiry,  that  he  hoped  to  be  back  again  at  the 
ball  in  half-an-hour. 

254 


DE   STANCY 

When  they  were  gone  Somerset,  feeling  that  now 
another  dog  might  have  his  day,  sounded  Paula  on 
the  delightful  question  of  a  dance. 

Paula  replied  in  the  negative. 

'  How  is  that  ? '  asked  Somerset  with  reproachful 
disappointment. 

'  I  cannot  dance  again,'  she  said  in  a  somewhat 
depressed  tone ;  '  I  must  be  released  from  every  en- 
gagement to  do  so,  on  account  of  Charlotte's  illness. 
I  should  have  gone  home  with  her  if  I  had  not  been 
particularly  requested  to  stay  a  little  longer,  since  it  is  as 
yet  so  early,  and  Charlotte's  illness  is  not  very  serious.' 

If  Charlotte's  illness  was  not  very  serious,  Somerset 
thought,  Paula  might  have  stretched  a  point;  but  not 
wishing  to  hinder  her  in  showing  respect  to  a  friend  so 
well  liked  by  himself,  he  did  not  ask  it.  De  Stancy 
had  promised  to  be  back  again  in  half-an-hour,  and 
Paula  had  heard  the  promise.  But  at  the  end  of 
twenty  minutes,  still  seeming  indifferent  to  what  was 
going  on  around  her,  she  said  she  would  stay  no  longer, 
and  reminding  Somerset  that  they  were  soon  to  meet 
and  talk  over  the  rebuilding,  drove  off  with  her  aunt 
to  Stancy  Castle. 

Somerset  stood  looking  after  the  retreating  carriage 
till  it  was  enveloped  in  shades  that  the  lamps  could 
not  disperse.  The  ball-room  was  now  virtually  empty 
for  him,  and  feeling  no  great  anxiety  to  return  thither 
he  stood  on  the  steps  for  some  minutes  longer,  looking 
into  the  calm  mild  night,  and  at  the  dark  houses  behind 
whose  blinds  lay  the  burghers  with  their  eyes  sealed  up 
in  .sleep.  He  could  not  but  think  that  it  was  rather 
too  bad  of  Paula  to  spoil  his  evening  for  a  sentimental 
devotion  to  Charlotte  which  could  do  the  latter  no 
appreciable  good;  and  he  would  have  felt  seriously 
hurt  at  her  move  if  it  had  not  been  equally  severe 
upon  Captain  De  Stancy,  who  was  doubtless  hastening 
back,  full  of  a  belief  that  she  would  still  be  found  there. 

255 


A   LAODICEAN 

The  star  of  gas-jets  over  the  entrance  threw  its  Ught 
upon  the  walls  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  where 
there  were  notice-boards  of  forthcoming  events.  In 
glancing  over  these  for  the  fifth  time,  his  eye  was 
attracted  by  the  first  words  of  a  placard  in  blue  letters, 
of  a  size  larger  than  the  rest,  and  moving  onward  a  few 
steps  he  read  : — 

STANCY   CASTLE. 


By  the  kind  permission  of  Miss  Power, 

A    PLAY 

Will  shortly  be  performed  at  the  above  CASTLE, 

IN  AID  OF  THE  FUNDS  OF  THE 

COUNTY   HOSPITAL, 

By  the  Officers  of  the 

ROYAL    HORSE    ARTILLERY, 
MARKTON   BARRACKS, 

ASSISTED   BY  SEVERAL 

LADIES   OF   THE   NEIGHBOURHOOD. 


The  cast  and  other  particulars  will  be  duly  announced  in  small 
bills.  Places  will  be  reserved  on  application  to  Mr.  Clangham, 
High  Street,  Markton,  where  a  plan  of  the  room  may  be  seen, 

N.B. — The  Castle  is  about  twenty  minutes'  drive  from  Markton 
Station,  to  which  there  are  numerous  convenient  trains  from  all 
parts  of  the  county. 

In  a  profound  study  Somerset  turned  and  re-entered 
the  ball-room,   where   he    remained    gloomily   standing 

256 


DE   STANCY 

here  and  there  for  about  five  minutes,  at  the  end  of 
which  he  observed  Captain  De  Stancy,  who  had  returned 
punctually  to  his  word,  crossing  the  hall  in  his  direction. 

The  gallant  officer  darted  glances  of  lively  search 
over  every  group  of  dancers  and  sitters ;  and  then  with 
rather  a  blank  look  in  his  face,  he  came  on  to  Somerset. 
Replying  to  the  latter's  inquiry  for  his  sister  that  she 
had  nearly  recovered,  he  said,  *  I  don't  see  my  father's 
neighbours  anywhere.' 

'  They  have  gone  home,'  replied  Somerset,  a  trifle 
drily.  '  They  asked  me  to  make  their  apologies  to  you 
for  leading  you  to  expect  they  would  remain.  Miss 
Power  was  too  anxious  about  Miss  De  Stancy  to  care  to 
stay  longer.' 

The  eyes  of  De  Stancy  and  the  speaker  met  for 
an  instant.  That  curious  guarded  understanding,  or 
inimical  confederacy,  which  arises  at  moments  between 
two  men  in  love  with  the  same  woman,  was  present 
here ;  and  in  their  mutual  glances  each  said  as  plainly 
as  by  words  that  her  departure  had  ruined  his  evening's 
hope. 

They  were  now  about  as  much  in  one  mood  as  it  was 
possible  for  two  such  differing  natures  to  be.  Neither 
cared  further  for  elaborating  giddy  curves  on  that  town- 
hall  floor.  They  stood  talking  languidly  about  this  and 
that  local  topic,  till  De  Stancy  turned  aside  for  a  short 
time  to  speak  to  a  dapper  little  lady  who  had  beckoned 
to  him.     In  a  few  minutes  he  came  back  to  Somerset. 

'  Mrs.  Camperton,  the  wife  of  Major  Camperton  of 
my  battery,  would  very  much  like  me  to  introduce  you 
to  her.  She  is  an  old  friend  of  your  father's,  and  has 
wanted  to  know  you  for  a  long  time.' 

De  Stancy  and  Somerset  crossed  over  to  the  lady, 
and  in  a  few  minutes,  thanks  to  her  flow  of  spirits,  she 
and  Somerset  were  chatting  with  remarkable  freedom. 

'It  is  a  happy  coincidence,'  continued  Mrs.  Cam- 
perton, '  that  I  should  liave  met  you  here,  immediately 

257  R 


A   LAODICEAN 

after  receiving  a  letter  from  your  father :  indeed  it 
reached  me  only  this  morning.  He  has  been  so  kind ! 
We  are  getting  up  some  theatricals,  as  you  know,  I 
suppose,  to  help  the  funds  of  the  County  Hospital, 
which  is  in  debt.' 

'  I  have  just  seen  the  announcement — nothing  more.' 

'  Yes,  such  an  estimable  purpose ;  and  as  we  wished 
to  do  it  thoroughly  well,  I  asked  I\Ir.  Somerset  to  design 
us  the  costumes,  and  he  has  now  sent  me  the  sketches. 
It  is  quite  a  secret  at  present,  but  we  are  going  to  play 
Shakespeare's  romantic  drama,  '  Love's  Labour's  Lost,' 
and  we  hope  to  get  Miss  Power  to  take  the  leading  part. 
You  see,  being  such  a  handsome  girl,  and  so  wealthy, 
and  rather  an  undiscovered  novelty  in  the  county  as  yet, 
she  would  draw  a  crowded  room,  and  greatly  benefit  the 
funds.' 

'Miss  Power  going  to  play  herself? — I  am  rather 
surprised,'  said  Somerset.     '  Whose  idea  is  all  this  ?  ' 

'  O,  Captain  De  Stancy's — he's  the  originator  en- 
tirely. You  see  he  is  so  interested  in  the  neighbourhood, 
his  family  having  been  connected  with  it  for  so  many 
centuries,  that  naturally  a  charitable  object  of  this  local 
nature  appeals  to  his  feelings.' 

'  Naturally  !  '  her  listener  laconically  repeated.  '  And 
have  you  settled  who  is  to  play  the  junior  gentleman's 
part,  leading  lover,  hero,  or  whatever  he  is  called  ? ' 

'  Not  absolutely ;  though  I  think  Captain  De  Stancy 
will  not  refuse  it ;  and  he  is  a  very  good  figure.  At 
present  it  lies  between  him  and  Mr.  Mild,  one  of  our 
young  lieutenants.  My  husband,  of  course,  takes  the 
heavy  line ;  and  I  am  to  be  the  second  lady^  though  I 
am  rather  too  old  for  the  part  really.  If  we  can  only 
secure  Miss  Power  for  heroine  the  cast  will  be  excellent.' 

'  Excellent ! '  said  Somerset,  with  a  spectral  smile. 


DE   STANCY 


Vv  HEN  he  awoke  the  next  morning  at  the  Lord- 
Quantock-Arms  Hotel  Somerset  felt  quite  morbid  on 
recalling  the  intelligence  he  had  received  from  Mrs.  Cam- 
perton.  But  as  the  day  for  serious  practical  consultation 
about  the  castle  works,  to  which  Paula  had  playfully 
alluded,  was  now  close  at  hand,  he  determined  to  banish 
sentimental  reflections  on  the  frailties  that  were  besieging 
her  nature,  by  active  preparation  for  his  professional 
undertaking.  To  be  her  high-priest  in  art,  to  elaborate 
a  structure  whose  cunning  workmanship  would  be  meet- 
ing her'  eye  every  day  till  the  end  of  her  natural  life,  and 
saying  to  her,  '  He  invented  it,'  with  all  the  eloquence 
of  an  inanimate  thing  long  regarded — this  was  no  mean 
satisfaction,  come  what  else  would. 

He  returned  to  town  the  next  day  to  set  matters 
there  in  such  trim  that  no  inconvenience  should  result 
from  his  prolonged  absence  at  the  castle;  for  having  no 
other  commission  he  determined  (with  an  eye  rather  to 
heart-interests  than  to  increasing  his  professional  practice) 
to  m.ake,  as  before,  the  castle  itself  his  office,  studio, 
and  chief  abiding-place  till  the  works  were  fairly  in 
progress. 

On  the  tenth  he  reappeared  at  Markton.  Passing 
through  the  town,  on  the  road  to  Stancy  Castle,  his 
eyes   were   again    arrested    by   the    notice-board    which 

259 


A   LAODICEAN 

had  conveyed  such  startling  information  to  him  on 
the  night  of  the  ball.  The  small  bills  now  appeared 
thereon;  but  when  he  anxiously  looked  them  over  to 
learn  how  the  parts  were  to  be  allotted,  he  found  that 
intelligence  still  withheld.  Yet  they  told  enough;  the 
list  of  lady-players  was  given,  and  Miss  Power's  name 
was  one. 

That  a  young  lady  who,  six  months  ago,  would 
scarcely  join  for  conscientious  reasons  in  a  simple 
dance  on  her  own  lawn,  should  now  be  willing  to  ex- 
hibit herself  on  a  public  stage,  simulating  love-passages 
with  a  stranger,  argued  a  rate  of  development  which 
under  any  circumstances  would  have  surprised  him, 
but  which,  with  the  particular  addition,  as  leading 
colleague,  of  Captain  De  Stancy,  inflamed  him  almost 
to  anger.  What  clandestine  arrangements  had  been 
going  on  in  his  absence  to  produce  such  a  full-blown 
intention  it  were  futile  to  guess.  Paula's  course  was 
a  race  rather  than  a  march,  and  each  successive  heat 
was  startling  in  its  eclipse  of  that  which  went  before. 

Somerset  was,  however,  introspective  enough  to  know 
that  his  morals  would  have  taken  no  such  virtuous  alarm 
had  he  been  the  chief  male  player  instead  of  Captain 
De  Stancy. 

He  passed  under  the  castle-arch  and  entered.  There 
seemed  a  little  turn  in  the  tide  of  affairs  when  it  was 
announced  to  him  that  Miss  Power  expected  him,  and 
^vas  alone. 

The  well-known  ante-chambers  through  which  he 
walked,  filled  with  twilight,  draughts,  and  thin  echoes 
that  seemed  to  reverberate  from  two  hundred  years 
ago,  did  not  delay  his  eye  as  they  had  done  when  he 
had  been  ignorant  that  his  destiny  lay  beyond ;  and  he 
followed  on  through  all  this  ancientness  to  where  the 
modern  Paula  sat  to  receive  him. 

He  forgot  "everything  in  the  pleasure  of  being  alone 
in  a  room  with  her.      She  met  his  eye  with  that  in  her 

260 


DE   STANCY 

own  which  cheered  him.  It  was  a  light  expressing  that 
something  was  understood  between  them.  She  said 
quietly  in  two  or  three  words  that  she  had  expected  him 
in  the  forenoon. 

Somerset  explained  that  he  had  come  only  that 
morning  from  London. 

After  a  little  more  talk,  in  which  she  said  that  her 
aunt  would  join  them  in  a  few  minutes,  and  that  Miss 
De  Stancy  was  still  indisposed  at  her  father's  house, 
she  rans:  for  tea  and  sat  down  beside  a  little  table. 
'  Shall  we  proceed  to  business  at  once  ? '  she  asked  him. 

'  I  suppose  so.' 

'  First  then,  when  will  the  working  drawings  be  ready, 
which  I  think  you  said  must  be  made  out  before  the 
work  could  begin  ?  ' 

While  Somerset  informed  her  on  this  and  other 
matters,  Mrs.  Goodman  entered  and  joined  in  the  dis- 
cussion, after  which  they  found  it  would  be  necessary 
to  adjourn  to  the  room  where  the  plans  were  hanging. 
On  their  walk  thither  Paula  asked  if  he  stayed  late  at 
the  ball. 

'  I  left  soon  after  you.' 

'  That  was  very  early,  seeing  how  late  you  arrived.' 

'  Yes.  ...  I  did  not  dance.' 

'  What  did  you  do  then  ?  ' 

'  I  moped,  and  walked  to  the  door ;  and  saw  an 
announcement.' 

'  I  know — the  play  that  is  to  be  performed.' 

'  In  which  you  are  to  be  the  Princess.' 

'  That's  not  settled, — I  have  not  agreed  yet.  I 
shall  not  play  the  Princess  of  France  unless  Mr.  Mild 
plays  the  King  of  Navarre.' 

This  sounded  rather  well.  The  Princess  was  the 
lady  beloved  by  the  King ;  and  Mr.  Mild,  the  young 
lieutenant  of  artillery,  was  a  diffident,  inexperienced, 
rather  plain-lnoking  fellow,  whose  sole  interest  in 
theatricals  lay  in   the  consideration  of  his  costume  and 

261 


A   LAODICEAN 

the  sound  of  his  own  voice  in  the  ears  of  the  audience. 
With  such  an  unobjectionable  person  to  enact  the  part 
of  lover,  the  prominent  character  of  leading  young  lady 
or  heroine,  which  Paula  was  to  personate,  was  really 
the  most  satisfactory  in  the  whole  list  for  her.  For 
although  she  was  to  be  wooed  hard,  there  was  just  as 
much  love-making  among  the  remaining  personages ; 
while,  as  Somerset  had  understood  the  play,  there  could 
occur  no  flingings  of  her  person  upon  her  lover's  neck, 
or  agonized  downfalls  upon  the  stage,  in  her  whole 
performance,  as  there  were  in  the  parts  chosen  by 
Mrs,  Camperton,  the  major's  wife,  and  some  of  the 
other  ladies. 

'  Why  do  you  play  at  all ! '  he  murmured. 

'  Whr.t  a  question  !  How  could  I  refuse  for  such  an 
excellent  purpose  ?  They  say  that  my  taking  a  part  will 
be  worth  a  hundred  pounds  to  the  charity.  My  father 
always  supported  the  hospital,  which  is  quite  unde- 
nominational ;  and  he  said  I  was  to  do  the  same.' 

'  Do  you  think  the  peculiar  means  you  have  adopted 
for  supporting  it  entered  into  his  view?'  inquired 
Somerset,  regarding  her  with  critical  dryness.  '  For  my 
part  I  don't.' 

'  It  is  an  interesting  way,'  she  returned  persuasively, 
though  apparently  in  a  state  of  mental  equipoise  on  the 
point  raised  by  his  question.  '  And  I  shall  not  play  the 
Princess,  as  I  said,  to  any  other  than  that  quiet  young 
man.  Now  I  assure  you  of  this,  so  don't  be  angry  and 
absurd !  Besides,  the  King  doesn't  marry  me  at  the 
end  of  the  play,  as  in  Shakespeare's  other  comedies. 
And  if  Miss  De  Stancy  continues  seriously  unwell  I  shall 
not  play  at  all.' 

The  young  man  pressed  her  hand,  but  she  gently 
slipped  it  away. 

'  Are  we  not  engaged,  Paula ! '  he  asked.  She 
evasively  shook  her  head. 

'  Come — yes  we  are  !     Shall  we  tell  your  aunt  ?  '  he 

263 


DE   STANCY 

continued.  Unluckily  at  that  moment  Mrs.  Goodman, 
who  had  followed  them  to  the  studio  at  a  slower  pace, 
appeared  round  the  doorway. 

'  No, — to  the  last,'  replied  Paula  hastily.  Then 
her  aunt  entered,  and  the  conversation  was  no  longer 
personal. 

Somerset  took  his  departure  in  a  serener  mood, 
though  not  completely  assured. 


A   LAODICEAN 


VIII 

JrllS  serenity  continued  during  two  or  three  following 
days,  when,  continuing  at  the  castle,  he  got  pleasant 
glimpses  of  Paula  now  and  then.  Her  strong  desire 
that  his  love  for  her  should  be  kept  secret,  perplexed 
him ;  but  his  affection  was  generous,  and  he  acquiesced 
in  that  desire. 

Meanwhile  news  of  the  forthcoming  dramatic  per- 
formance radiated  in  every  direction.  And  in  the  next 
number  of  the  county  paper  it  was  announced,  to 
Somerset's  comparative  satisfaction,  that  the  cast  was 
definitely  settled,  Mr.  Mild  having  agreed  to  be  the 
King  and  Miss  Power  the  French  Princess.  Captain 
De  Stancy,  with  becoming  modesty  for  one  who  was  the 
leading  spirit,  figured  quite  low  down,  in  the  secondary 
character  of  Sir  Nathaniel. 

Somerset  remembered  that,  by  a  happy  chance,  the 
costume  he  had  designed  for  Sir  Nathaniel  was  not  at 
all  picturesque ;  moreover  Sir  Nathaniel  scarcely  came 
near  the  Princess  through  the  whole  play. 

Every  day  after  this  there  was  coming  and  going 
to  and  from  the  castle  of  railway  vans  laden  with 
canvas  columns,  pasteboard  trees,  limp  house-fronts, 
woollen  lawns,  and  lath  balustrades.  There  were  also 
frequent  arrivals  of  young  ladies  from  neighbouring 
country    houses,    and    warriors    from    the    X    and    Y 

264 


DE   STANCY 

batteries  of  artillery,  distinguishable  by  their  regulation 
shaving. 

But  it  was  upon  Captain  De  Stancy  and  Mrs. 
Camperton  that  the  weight  of  preparation  fell.  Somerset, 
through  being  much  occupied  in  the  drawing-ofifice,  was 
seldom  present  during  the  consultations  and  rehearsals : 
until  one  day,  tea  being  served  in  the  drawing-room  at 
the  usual  hour,  he  dropped  in  with  the  rest  to  receive  a 
cup  from  Paula's  table.  The  chatter  was  tremendous, 
and  Somerset  was  at  once  consulted  about  some 
necessary  carpentry  which  was  to  be  specially  made  at 
Markton.  After  that  he  was  looked  on  as  one  of  the 
band,  which  resulted  in  a  large  addition  to  the  number 
of  his  acquaintance  in  this  part  of  England. 

But  his  own  feeling  was  that  of  being  an  outsider 
still.  This  vagary  had  been  originated,  the  play  chosen, 
the  parts  allotted,  all  in  his  absence,  and  calling  him 
in  at  the  last  moment  might,  if  flirtation  were  possible 
in  Paula,  be  but  a  sop  to  pacify  him.  What  would  he 
have  given  to  impersonate  her  lover  in  the  piece !  But 
neither  Paula  nor  any  one  else  had  asked  him. 

The  eventful  evening  came.  Somerset  had  been 
engaged  during  the  day  with  the  different  people  by 
whom  the  works  were  to  be  carried  out ;  and  in  the 
evening  went  to  his  rooms  at  the  Lord-Quantock-Arms, 
Markton,  where  he  dined.  He  did  not  return  to  the 
castle  till  the  hour  fixed  for  the  performance,  and 
having  been  received  by  Mrs.  Goodman,  entered  the 
large  apartment,  now  transfigured  into  a  theatre,  like 
any  other  spectator. 

Rumours  of  the  projected  representation  had  spread 
far  and  wide.  Six  times  the  number  of  tickets  issued 
might  have  been  readily  sold.  Friends  and  ac(iuaint- 
ances  of  the  actors  came  from  curiosity  to  see  how  they 
would  acquit  themselves ;  while  other  classes  of  people 
came  because  they  were  eager  to  see  well-known  nota- 
bilities in  unwonted   situations.      When  ladies,  hitherto 

265 


A   LAODICEAN 

only  beheld  in  frigid,  impenetrable  positions  behind 
their  coachmen  in  Markton  High  Street,  were  about  to 
reveal  their  hidden  traits,  home  attitudes,  inamate 
smiles,  nods,  and  perhaps  kisses,  to  the  public  eye,  it 
was  a  throwing  open  of  fascinating  social  secrets  not  to 
be  missed  for  money. 

The  performance  opened  with  no  further  delay  than 
was  occasioned  by  the  customary  refusal  of  the  curtain 
at  these  times  to  rise  more  than  two  feet  six  inches  ; 
but  this  hitch  was  remedied,  and  the  play  began.  It 
was  with  no  enviable  emotion  that  Somerset,  who  was 
watching  intently,  saw,  not  Mr.  Mild,  but  Captain  De 
Stancy,  enter  as  the  King  of  Navarre. 

Somerset  as  a  friend  of  the  family  had  had  a  seat 
reserved  for  him  next  to  that  of  Mrs.  Goodman,  and 
turning  to  her  he  said  with  some  excitement,  '  I  under- 
stood that  Mr.  Mild  had  agreed  to  take  that  part  ? ' 

'  Yes,'  she  said  in  a  whisper,  '  so  he  had ;  but  he 
broke  down.  Luckily  Captain  De  Stancy  was  familiar 
with  the  part,  through  having  coached  the  others  so 
persistently,  and  he  undertook  it  off-hand.  Being  about 
the  same  figure  as  Lieutenant  Mild  the  same  dress  fits 
him,  with  a  little  alteration  by  the  tailor.' 

It  did  fit  him  indeed ;  and  of  the  male  costumes  it 
was  that  on  which  Somerset  had  bestowed  most  pains 
when  designing  them.  It  shrewdly  burst  upon  his  mind 
that  there  might  have  been  collusion  between  Mild  and 
De  Stancy,  the  former  agreeing  to  take  the  captain's 
place  and  act  as  blind  till  the  last  moment.  A  greater 
question  was,  could  Paula  have  been  aware  of  this,  and 
would  she  perform  as  the  Princess  of  France  now  De 
Stancy  was  to  be  her  lover  ? 

'  Does  Miss  Power  know  of  this  change  ? '  he  in- 
quired. 

'  She  did  not  till  quite  a  short  time  ago.' 

He  controlled  his  impatience  till  the  beginning  of 
the  second  act.     The  Princess  entered ;  it  was  Paula. 

266 


DE   STANCY 

But  whether  the  slight  embarrassment  with  which  she 
pronounced  her  opening  words, 

'  Good  Lord  Boyet,  my  beauty,  though  but  mean, 
Needs  not  the  pamted  flourish  of  your  praise,' 

was  due  to  the  newness  of  her  situation,  or  to  her  know- 
ledge that  De  Stancy  had  usurped  Mild's  part  of  her 
lover,  he  could  not  guess.  De  Stancy  appeared,  and 
Somerset  felt  grim  as  he  listened  to  the  gallant  captain's 
salutation  of  the  Princess,  and  her  response. 

De  S.   Fair  Princess,  welcome  to  the  court  of  Navarre. 
Paula.  Fair,    I  give  you  back   again  :   and  welcome,   I  have 
not  yet. 

Somerset  listened  to  this  and  to  all  that  which  fol- 
lowed of  the  same  sort,  with  the  reflection  that,  after  all, 
the  Princess  never  throughout  the  piece  compromised 
her  dignity  by  showing  her  love  for  the  King ;  and  that 
the  latter  never  addressed  her  in  words  in  which  passion 
got  the  better  of  courtesy.  Moreover,  as  Paula  had 
herself  observed,  they  did  not  marry  at  the  end  of  the 
piece,  as  in  Shakespeare's  other  comedies.  Somewhat 
calm  in  this  assurance,  he  waited  on  while  the  other 
couples  respectively  indulged  in  their  love-making  and 
banter,  including  Mrs.  Camperton  as  the  sprightly  Rosa- 
line. But  he  was  doomed  to  be  surprised  out  of  his 
humour  when  the  end  of  the  act  came  on.  In  abridging 
the  play  for  the  convenience  of  representation,  the  fovours 
or  gifts  from  the  gentlemen  to  the  ladies  were  personally 
presented  :  and  now  Somerset  saw  De  Stancy  advance 
with  the  necklace  fetched  by  Paula  from  London,  and 
clasp  it  on  her  neck. 

This  seemed  to  throw  a  less  pleasant  light  on  her 
hasty  journey.  To  fetch  a  valuable  ornament  to  lend 
it  to  a  poorer  friend  was  estimable ;  but  to  fetch  it  that 
the  friend's  brother  should  have  something  magnificent 

267 


A   LAODICEAN 

to  use  as  a  lover's  offering  to  herself  in  public,  that 
wore  a  different  complexion.  And  if  the  article  were 
recognized  by  the  spectators  as  the  same  that  Charlotte 
had  worn  at  the  ball,  the  presentation  by  De  Stancy  of 
what  must  seem  to  be  an  heirloom  of  his  house  would 
be  read  as  symbolizing  a  union  of  the  families. 

De  Stancy's  mode  of  presenting  the  necklace,  though 
unauthorized  by  Shakespeare,  had  the  full  approval  of 
the  company,  and  set  them  in  good  humour  to  receive 
Major  Camperton  as  Armado  the  braggart.  Nothing 
calculated  to  stimulate  jealousy  occurred  again  till  the 
fifth  act ;  and  then  there  arose  full  cause  for  it. 

The  scene  was  the  outside  of  the  Princess's  pavilion. 
De  Stancy,  as  the  King  of  Navarre,  stood  with  his 
group  of  attendants  awaiting  the  Princess,  who  presently 
entered  from  her  door.  The  two  began  to  converse  as 
the  play  appointed,  De  Stancy  turning  to  her  with 
this  reply — 

Rebuke  me  not  for  that  which  you  provoke  ; 
The  virtue  of  your  eye  must  break  my  oath.' 

So  far  all  was  well ;  and  Paula  opened  her  lips  for 
the  set  rejoinder.  But  before  she  had  spoken  De  Stancy 
continued — 

'  If  I  profane  with  my  unworthy  hand 

( Taking  her  hand) 
This  holy  shrine,  the  gentle  fine  is  this — 
My  lips,  two  blushing  pilgrims,  ready  stand 
To  smooth  that  rough  touch  with  a  tender  kiss. 

Somerset  stared.  Surely  in  this  comedy  the  King 
never  addressed  the  Princess  in  such  warm  words ;  and 
yet  they  were  Shakespeare's,  for  they  were  quite  familiar 
to  him.  A  dim  suspicion  crossed  his  mind.  Mrs. 
Cioodman  had  brought  a  copy  of  Shakespeare  with  her, 
which  she  kept  in  her  lap  and  never  looked  at :  borrowing 

268 


DE   STANCY 

it,  Somerset  turned  to  '  Romeo  and  Juliet,'  and  there 
he  saw  the  words  which  De  Stancy  had  introduced  as 
gag,  to  intensify  the  mild  love-making  of  the  other  play. 
Meanwhile  De  Stancy  continued — 

'  O  then,  dear  Saint,  let  lips  do  what  hands  do  ; 
They  pray,  grant  thou,  lest  faith  turn  to  despair. 
Then  move  not,  while  my  prayer's  effect  I  take. 
Thus  from  my  lips,  by  yours,  my  sin  is  purg'd  ! ' 

Could  it  be  that  De  Stancy  was  going  to  do  what 
came  next  in  the  stage  direction — kiss  her?  Before 
there  was  time  for  conjecture  on  that  point  the  sound  of 
a  very  sweet  and  long-drawn  osculation  spread  through 
the  room,  followed  by  loud  applause  from  the  people 
in  the  cheap  seats.  De  Stancy  withdrew  from  bending 
over  Paula,  and  she  was  very  red  in  the  face.  Nothing 
seemed  clearer  than  that  he  had  actually  done  the  deed. 
The  applause  continuing,  Somerset  turned  his  head. 
Five  hundred  faces  had  regarded  the  act,  without  a 
consciousness  that  it  was  an  interpolation ;  and  four 
hundred  and  fifty  mouths  in  those  faces  were  smiling. 
About  one  half  of  them  were  tender  smiles  ;  these  came 
from  the  women.  The  other  half  were  at  best  humorous, 
and  mainly  satirical ;  these  came  from  the  men.  It 
was  a  profanation  without  parallel,  and  his  face  blazed 
like  a  coal. 

The  play  was  now  nearly  at  an  end,  and  Somerset 
sat  on,  feeling  what  he  could  not  express.  More  than 
ever  was  he  assured  that  there  had  been  collusion 
between  the  two  artillery  officers  to  bring  about  this 
end.  That  he  should  have  been  the  unhappy  man  to 
design  those  picturesque  dresses  in  which  his  rival  so 
audaciously  played  the  lover  to  his,  Somerset's,  mistress, 
was  an  added  point  to  the  satire.  He  could  hardly  go 
so  far  as  to  assume  that  Paula  was  a  consenting  party 
to  this  startling  interlude ;  but  her  otherwise  unaccount- 

269 


A   LAODICEAN 

able  wish  that  his  own  love  should  be  clandestinely 
shown  lent  immense  force  to  a  doubt  of  her  sincerity. 
The  ghastly  thought  that  she  had  merely  been  keeping 
him  on,  like  a  pet  spaniel,  to  amuse  her  leisure  moments 
till  she  should  have  found  appropriate  opportunity  for 
an  open  engagement  with  some  one  else,  trusting  to  his 
sense  of  chivalry  to  keep  secret  their  little  episode,  filled 
him  with  a  grim  heat. 


DE   STANCY 


IX 

At  the  back  of  the  room  the  applause  had  been  loud 
at  the  moment  of  the  kiss,  real  or  counterfeit.  The 
cause  was  partly  owing  to  an  exceptional  circumstance 
which  had  occurred  in  that  quarter  early  in  the  play. 

The  people  had  all  seated  themselves,  and  the  first 
act  had  begun,  when  the  tapestry  that  screened  the 
door  was  lifted  gently  and  a  figure  appeared  in  the 
opening.-  The  general  attention  was  at  this  moment 
absorbed  by  the  newly  disclosed  stage,  and  scarcely 
a  soul  noticed  the  stranger.  Had  any  one  of  the 
audience  turned  his  head,  there  would  have  been  suffi- 
cient in  the  countenance  to  detain  his  gaze,  notwith- 
standing the  counter-attraction  forward. 

He  was  obviously  a  man  who  had  come  from  afar. 
There  was  not  a  square  inch  about  him  that  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  modern  English  life.  His  visage, 
which  was  of  the  colour  of  light  porphyry,  had  little 
of  its  original  surface  left ;  it  was  a  face  which  had 
been  the  plaything  of  strange  fires  or  pestilences,  that 
had  moulded  to  whatever  shape  they  chose  his  originally 
supple  skin,  and  left  it  pitted,  puckered,  and  seamed 
like  a  dried  water-course.  But  though  dire  catastrophes 
or  the  treacherous  airs  of  remote  climates  had  done 
their  worst  upon  his  exterior,  they  seemed  to  have 
afTected    him    but  little   within,   to  judge  from  a  cer- 

271 


A   LAODICEAN 

tain  robustness  which  showed  itself  in  his   manner  of 
standing. 

The  face-marks  had  a  meaning,  for  any  one  who  could 
read  them,  beyond  the  mere  suggestion  of  their  origin  : 
they  signified  that  this  man  had  either  been  the  victim 
of  some  terrible  necessity  as  regarded  the  occupation 
to  which  he  had  devoted  himself,  or  that  he  was  a  man 
of  dogged  obstinacy,  from  sheer  sang  froid  holding  his 
ground  amid  malign  forces  when  others  would  have 
fled  affrighted  away. 

As  nobody  noticed  him,  he  dropped  the  door  hang- 
ings after  a  while,  walked  .silently  along  the  matted  alley, 
and  sat  down  in  one  of  the  back  chairs.  His  manner 
of  entry  was  enough  to  show  that  the  strength  of 
character  which  he  seemed  to  possess  had  phlegm  for 
its  base  and  not  ardour.  One  might  have  said  that 
perhaps  the  shocks  he  had  passed  through  had  taken  all 
his  original  warmth  out  of  him.  His  beaver  hat,  which 
he  had  retained  on  his  head  till  this  moment,  he  now- 
placed  under  the  seat,  where  he  sat  absolutely  motion- 
less till  the  end  of  the  first  act,  as  if  he  were  indulging 
in  a  monologue  which  did  not  quite  reach  his  lips. 

When  Paula  entered  at  the  beginning  of  the  second 
act  he  showed  as  much  excitement  as  was  expressed 
by  a  slight  movement  of  the  eyes.  When  she  spoke 
he  turned  to  his  next  neighbour,  and  asked  him  in 
cold  level  words  which  had  once  been  English,  but 
which  seemed  to  have  lost  the  accent  of  nationality  : 
'  Is  that  the  young  woman  who  is  the  possessor  of  this 
castle — -Power  by  name  ?  ' 

His  neighbour  happened  to  be  the  landlord  at 
Sleeping-Green,  and  he  informed  the  stranger  that  she 
was  what  he  supposed. 

'  And  who  is  that  gentleman  whose  line  of  business 
seems  to  be  to  make  love  to  Power  ? ' 

'  He's  Captain  De  Stancy,  Sir  William  De  Stancy's 
son,  who  used  to  own  this  property.' 

272 


DE   STANCY 

'  Baronet  or  knight  ?  ' 

'  Baronet — a  very  old-established  family  about  here.' 

The  stranger  nodded,  and  the  play  went  on,  no 
further  word  being  spoken  till  the  fourth  act  was 
reached,  when  the  stranger  again  said,  without  taking 
his  narrow  black  eyes  from  the  stage :  '  There's  some- 
thing in  that  love-making  between  Stancy  and  Power 
that's  not  all  sham  ! ' 

'  Well,'  said  the  landlord,  '  I  have  heard  different 
stories  about  that,  and  wouldn't  be  the  man  to  zay 
what  I  couldn't  swear  to.  The  story  is  that  Captain 
De  Stancy,  who  is  as  poor  as  a  gallicrow,  is  in  full  cry 
a'ter  her,  and  that  his  on'y  chance  lies  in  his  being 
heir  to  a  title  and  the  wold  name.  But  she  has  not 
shown  a  genuine  hanker  for  anybody  yet.' 

'  If  she  finds  the  money,  and  this  Stancy  finds  the 
name  and  blood,  'twould  be  a  very  neat  match  between 
'em, — hey  ?  ' 

'  That's  the  argument.' 

Nothing  more  was  said  again  for  a  long  time,  but 
the  stranger's  eyes  showed  more  interest  in  the  passes 
between  Paula  and  De  Stancy  than  they  had  shown 
before.  At  length  the  crisis  came,  as  described  in  the 
last  chapter,  De  Stancy  saluting  her  with  that  semblance 
of  a  kiss  which  gave  such  umbrage  to  Somerset.  The 
stranger's  thin  lips  lengthened  a  couple  of  inches  with 
satisfaction ;  he  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  drew 
out  two  half-crowns  which  he  handed  to  the  landlord, 
saying,  'Just  applaud  that,  will  you,  and  get  your 
comrades  to  do  the  same.' 

The  landlord,  though  a  little  surprised,  took  the  money, 
and  began  to  clap  his  hands  as  desired.  The  example 
was  contagious,  and  spread  all  over  the  room ;  for  the 
audience,  gentle  and  simple,  though  they  might  not  have 
followed  the  blank  verse  in  all  its  bearings,  could  at  least 
appreciate  a  kiss.  It  was  the  unusual  acclamation  raised 
by  this  means  which  had  led  Somerset  to  turn  his  head. 

273  s 


A  LAODICEAN 

When  the  play  had  ended  the  stranger  was  the  first 
to  rise,  and  going  downstairs  at  tlie  head  of  the  crowd 
he  passed  out  of  doors,  and  was  lost  to  view.  Some 
questions  were  asked  by  the  landlord  as  to  the  stranger's 
individuality  ;  but  few  had  seen  him ;  fewer  had  noticed 
him,  singular  as  he  was ;  and  none  knew  his  name. 

While  these  things  had  been  going  on  in  the  quarter 
allotted  to  the  commonalty,  Somerset  in  front  had  waited 
the  fall  of  the  curtain  with  those  sick  and  sorry  feelings 
which  should  be  combated  by  the  aid  of  philosophy  and 
a  good  conscience,  but  which  really  are  only  subdued 
by  time  and  the  abrading  rush  of  affairs.  He  was, 
however,  stoical  enough,  when  it  was  all  over,  to  accept 
Mrs.  Goodman's  invitation  to  accompany  her  to  the 
drawing-room,  fully  expecting  to  find  there  a  large  com- 
pany, including  Captain  De  Stancy. 

But  none  of  the  acting  ladies  and  gentlemen  had 
emerged  from  their  dressing-rooms  as  yet.  Feeling 
that  he  did  not  care  to  meet  any  of  them  that  night,  he 
bade  farewell  to  Mrs.  Goodman  after  a  few  minutes  of 
conversation,  and  left  her.  While  he  v;as  passing  along 
the  corridor,  at  the  side  of  the  gallery  which  had  been 
used  as  the  theatre,  Paula  crossed  it  from  the  latter 
apartment  towards  an  opposite  door.  She  was  still  in 
the  dress  of  the  Princess,  and  the  diamond  and  pearl 
necklace  still  hung  over  her  bosom  as  placed  there  by 
Captain  De  Stancy. 

Her  eye  caught  Somerset's,  and  she  stopped.  Pro- 
bably there  was  something  in  his  face  which  told  his 
mind,  for  she  invited  him  by  a  smile  into  the  room 
she  was  entering. 

'  I  congratulate  you  on  your  performance,'  he  said 
mechanically,  when  she  pushed  to  the  door. 

'  Do  you  really  think  it  was  well  done  ?  '  She  drew 
near  him  with  a  sociable  air. 

'  It  was  startlingly  done — the  part  from  "  Romeo  and 
Juliet "  pre-eminently  so.' 

274 


DE   STANCY 

'  Do  you  think  I  kncAV  he  was  going  to  introduce  it, 
or  do  you  think  I  didn't  know  ? '  she  said,  with  that 
gentle  sauciness  which  shows  itself  in  the  loved  one's 
manner  when  she  has  had  a  triumphant  evening  without 
the  lover's  assistance. 

'  I  think  you  may  have  known.' 

'  No,'  she  averred,  decisively  shaking  her  head.  '  It 
took  me  as  much  by  surprise  as  it  probably  did  you. 
But  why  should  I  have  told ! ' 

Without  answering  that  question  Somerset  went  on. 
'  Then  what  he  did  at  the  end  of  his  gag  was  of  course 
a  surprise  also.' 

'  He  didn't  really  do  what  he  seemed  to  do,'  she 
serenely  answered. 

'  Well,  I  have  no  right  to  make  observations — your 
actions  are  not  subject  to  my  surveillance  ;  you  float 
above  my  plane,'  said  the  young  man  with  some  bitter- 
ness.     '  But  to  speak  plainly,  surely  he — kissed  you  ?  ' 

'  No,'  she  said.  '  He  only  kissed  the  air  in  front  of 
me — ever  so  far  off.' 

'  Was  it  six  inches  off?  ' 

'  No,  not  six  inches.' 

'  Nor  three.' 

'  It  was  quite  one,'  she  said  with  an  ingenuous  air. 

*  I  don't  call  that  very  far.' 

'  A  miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile,  says  the  time-honoured 
proverb ;  and  it  is  not  for  us  modern  mortals  to  question 
its  truth.' 

'  How  can  you  be  so  off-hand  ! '  broke  out  Somerset. 
'  I  love  you  wildly  and  desperately,  Paula,  and  you 
know  it  v,-cll ! ' 

'  I  have  never  denied  knowing  it,'  she  said  softly. 

'  Then  why  do  you,  with  such  knowledge,  adopt  an 
air  of  levity  at  such  a  moment  as  this  !  You  keep  me 
at  arm's-length,  and  won't  say  whether  you  care  for  me 
one  bit,  or  no.  I  have  owned  all  to  you  ;  yet  never 
once  have  you  owned  anything  to  me ! ' 

275 


A   LAODICEAN 

*  I  have  owned  much.  And  you  do  me  wrong  if  you 
consider  that  I  show  levity.  But  even  if  I  had  not 
owned  everything,  and  you  all,  it  is  not  altogether  such 
a  grievous  thing.' 

'  You  mean  to  say  that  it  is  not  grievous,  even  if  a 
man  does  love  a  woman,  and  suffers  all  the  pain  of 
feeling  he  loves  in  vain  ?  Well,  I  say  it  is  quite  the 
reverse,  and  I  have  grounds  for  knowing.' 

'  Now,  don't  fume  so,  George  Somerset,  but  hear 
me.  My  not  owning  all  may  not  have  the  dreadful 
meaning  you  think,  and  therefore  it  may  not  be  really 
such  a  grievous  thing.  There  are  genuine  reasons  for 
women's  conduct  in  these  matters  as  well  as  for  men's, 
though  it  is  sometimes  supposed  to  be  regulated  entirely 
by  caprice.  And  if  I  do  not  give  way  to  every  feeling 
— I  mean  demonstration — it  is  because  I  don't  want 
to.  There  now,  you  know  what  that  impHes ;  and  be 
content.' 

'  Very  well,'  said  Somerset,  with  repressed  sadness, 
'  I  will  not  expect  you  to  say  more.  But  you  do  like 
me  a  little,  Paula  ?  ' 

'  Now  ! '  she  said,  shaking  her  head  with  symptoms  of 
tenderness  and  looking  into  his  eyes.  '  What  have  you 
just  promised  ?  Perhaps  I  like  you  a  little  more  than  a 
little,  which  is  much  too  much  !  Yes, — Shakespeare 
says  so,  and  he  is  always  right.  Do  you  still  doubt  me  ? 
Ah,  I  see  you  do !  ' 

'  Because  somebody  has  stood  nearer  to  you  to-night 
than  I.' 

'  A  fogy  like  him  ! — half  as  old  again  as  either  of  us  ! 
How  can  you  mind  him  ?  What  shall  I  do  to  show  you 
that  I  do  not  for  a  moment  let  him  come  between  me 
and  you  ? ' 

'  It  is  not  for  me  to  suggest  what  you  should  do. 
Though  what  you  should  permit  me  to  do  is  obvious 
enough.' 

She  dropped  her  voice :   '  You  mean,  permit  you  to 

276 


DE   STANCY 

do  really  and  in  earnest  what  he  only  seemed  to  do  in 
the  play.' 

Somerset  signified  by  a  look  that  such  had  been  his 
thought. 

Paula  was  silent.  '  No,'  she  murmured  at  last. 
'  That  cannot  be.     He  did  not,  nor  must  you.' 

It  was  said  none  the  less  decidedly  for  being  spoken 
low. 

'  You  quite  resent  such  a  suggestion  :  you  have  a 
right  to.  I  beg  your  pardon,  not  for  speaking  of  it,  but 
for  thinking  it.' 

'  I  don't  resent  it  at  all,  and  I  am  not  offended  one 
bit.  But  I  am  not  the  less  of  opinion  that  it  is  possible 
to  be  premature  in  some  things ;  and  to  do  this  just  now 
would  be  premature.  I  know  what  you  would  say — 
that  you  would  not  have  asked  it,  but  for  that  unfortunate 
improvisation  of  it  in  the  play.  But  that  I  was  not 
responsible  for,  and  therefore  owe  no  reparation  to  you 
now.  .  .  .  Listen  ! ' 

'  Paula — Paula  !  Where  in  the  world  are  you  ?  '  was 
heard  resounding  along  the  corridor  in  the  voice  of  her 
aunt.  '  Our  friends  are  all  ready  to  leave,  and  you  will 
surely  bid  them  good-night ! ' 

'  I  must  be  gone — I  won't  ring  for  you  to  be  shown 
out — come  this  way.' 

'  But  how  will  you  get  on  in  repeating  the  play  to- 
morrow evening  if  that  interpolation  is  against  your 
wish  ?  '  he  asked,  looking  her  hard  in  the  face. 

'  I'll  think  it  over  during  the  night.  Come  to-morrow 
morning  to  help  me  settle.  But,'  she  added,  with  coy 
yet  genial  independence,  '  listen  to  me.  Not  a  word 
more  about  a — what  you  asked  for,  mind !  I  don't 
want  to  go  so  far,  and  I  will  not — not  just  yet  anyhow 
— I  mean  perhaps  never.  You  must  promise  that,  or  I 
cannot  see  you  again  alone.' 

'  It  shall  be  as  you  request.' 

'  Very  well.     And  not  a  word  of  this  to  a  soul.     My 

277 


A   LAODICEAN 

aunt  suspects  :  but  she  is  a  good  aunt  and  will  say 
nothing.  Now  that  is  clearly  understood,  I  should  be 
glad  to  consult  with  you  ^  to-morrow  early.  I  will  come 
to  you  in  the  studio  or  Pleasance  as  soon  as  I  am 
disengaged.' 

She  took  him  to  a  little  chamfered  doorway  in  the 
corner,  which  opened  into  a  descending  turret;  and 
Somerset  went  down.  When  he  had  unfastened  the 
door  at  the  bottom,  and  stepped  into  the  lower  corridor, 
she  asked,  '  Are  you  down  ? '  And  on  receiving  an 
affirmative  reply  she  closed  the  top  door. 


DE   STANCY 


X 

oOMERSET  was  in  the  studio  the  next  morning  about 
ten  o'clock  superintending  tlie  labours  of  Knowles, 
Bowles,  and  Cockton,  whom  he  had  again  engaged  to 
assist  him  with  the  drawings  on  his  appointment  to 
carry  out  the  works.  When  he  had  set  them  going  he 
ascended  the  staircase  of  the  great  tower  for  some 
purpose  that  bore  upon  the  forthcoming  repairs  of  this 
part.  Passing  the  door  of  the  telegraph-room  he  heard 
little  sounds  from  the  instrument,  which  somebody  was 
working.  Only  two  people  in  the  castle,  to  the  best  of 
his  knowledge,  knew  the  trick  of  this ;  INIiss  Power,  and 
a  page  in  her  service  called  John.  Miss  De  Stancy  could 
also  despatch  messages,  but  she  was  at  Myrtle  Villa. 

The  door  was  closed,  and  much  as  he  would  have 
liked  to  enter,  the  possibility  that  Paula  was  not  the 
performer  led  him  to  withhold  his  steps.  He  went  on 
to  where  the  uppermost  masonry  had  resisted  the  mighty 
hostility  of  the  elements  for  five  hundred  years  without 
receiving  worse  dilapidation  than  half-a-ccntury  produces 
upon  the  face  of  man.  But  he  still  wondered  who  was 
telegraphing,  and  whether  the  message  bore  on  house- 
keeping, architecture,  theatricals,  or  love. 

Could  Somerset  have  seen  through  the  panels  of  the 
door  in  passing,  he  would  have  beheld  the  room  occu- 
pied by  Paula  alone. 

279 


A   LAODICEAN 

It  was  she  who  sat  at  the  instrument,  and  the  message 
she  was  despatching  ran  as  under : — 

'  Can  you  send  down  a  competent  actress,  who  will  undertake 
the  part  of  Princess  of  France  in  "Love's  Labour's  Lost"  this 
evening  in  a  temporary  theatre  here?  Dresses  already  provided 
suitable  to  a  lady  about  the  middle  height.     State  price.' 

The  telegram  was  addressed  to  a  well-known  theatri- 
cal agent  in  London. 

Off  went  the  message,  and  Paula  retired  into  the 
next  room,  leaving  the  door  open  between  that  and  the 
one  she  had  just  quitted.  Here  she  busied  herself  with 
writing  some  letters,  till  in  less  than  an  hour  the  tele- 
graph instrument  showed  signs  of  life,  and  she  hastened 
back  to  its  side.  The  reply  received  from  the  agent 
was  as  follows  : — 

'  Miss  Barbara  Bell  of  the  Regent's  Theatre  could  come.  Quite 
competent.     Her  terms  would  be  about  twenty-five  guineas." 

Without  a  moment's  pause  Paula  returned  for 
answer : — 

'  The  terms  are  quite  satisfactory.' 

Presently  she  heard  the  instrument  again,  and  emerg- 
ing from  the  next  room  in  which  she  had  passed  the 
intervening  time  as  before,  she  read : — 

'  Miss  Barbara  Bell's  terms  were  accidentally  understated.  They 
would  be  forty  guineas,  in  consequence  of  the  distance.  Am  waiting 
at  the  office  for  a  reply.' 

Paula  set  to  work  as  before  and  replied  : — 

'Quite  satisfactory  ;  only  let  her  come  at  once.' 

She  did  not  leave  the  room  this  time,  but  went  to 

280 


DE   STANCY 

an  arrow-slit  hard  by  and  gazed  out  at  the  trees  till  the 
instrument  began  to  speak  again.  Returning  to  it  with 
a  leisurely  manner,  implying  a  full  persuasion  that  the 
matter  was  settled,  she  was  somewhat  surprised  to  learn 
that 

'  Miss  Bell,  in  stating  her  terms,  understands  that  she  will  not 
be  required  to  leave  London  till  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  If  it 
is  necessary  for  her  to  leave  at  once,  ten  guineas  extra  would  be 
indispensable,  on  account  of  the  great  inconvenience  of  such  a 
short  notice.' 

Paula  seemed  a  little  vexed,  but  not  much  concerned 
she  sent  back  with  a  readiness  scarcely  politic  in  the 
circumstances  : — 

'  She  must  start  at  once.     Price  agreed  to.' 

Her  impatience  for  the  answer  was  mixed  with  curi- 
osity as  to  whether  it  was  due  to  the  agent  or  to  Miss 
Barbara  Bell  that  the  prices  had  grown  like  Jack's 
Bean-stalk  in  the  negotiation.  Another  telegram  duly 
came : — 

'Travelling  expenses  are  expected  to  be  paid.' 

With  decided  impatience  she  dashed  off: — 

'  Of  course  ;  but  nothing  more  will  be  agreed  to.' 

Then,  and  only  then,  came  the  desired  reply : — 

'Miss  Bell  starts  by  the  twelve  o'clock  train.' 

This  business  being  finished,  Paula  left  the  chamber 
and  descended  into  the  inclosure  called  the  Pleasance, 
a  spot  grassed  down  like  a  lawn.  Here  stood  Somerset, 
who,  having  come  down  from  the  tower,  was  looking  on 
while  a  man  searched  for  old  foundations  under  the  sod 

281 


A   LAODICEAN 

with  a  crowbar.  He  was  glad  to  see  her  at  last,  and 
noticed  that  she  looked  serene  and  relieved  ;  but  could 
not  for  the  moment  divine  the  cause.  Paula  came 
nearer,  returned  his  salutation,  and  regarded  the  man's 
operations  in  silence  awhile  till  his  work  led  him  to  a 
distance  from  them. 

'  Do  you  still  wish  to  consult  me  ? '  asked  Somerset. 

'  About  the  building  perhaps,'  said  she.  '  Not  about 
the  play.' 

'  But  you  said  so  ? ' 

'  Yes  ;  but  it  will  be  unnecessary.' 

Somerset  thought  this  meant  skittishness,  and  merely 
bowed. 

'  You  mistake  me  as  usual,'  she  said,  in  a  low 
tone.  '  I  am  not  going  to  consult  you  on  that  matter, 
because  I  have  done  all  you  could  have  asked  for 
without  consulting  you.  I  take  no  part  in  the  play 
to-night.' 

'  Forgive  my  momentary  doubt ! ' 

'  Somebody  else  will  play  for  me — an  actress  from 
London.  But  on  no  account  must  the  substitution  be 
known  beforehand  or  the  performance  to-night  will 
never  come  off:  and  that  I  should  much  regret.' 

*  Captain  De  Stancy  will  not  play  his  part  if  he  knows 
you  will  not  play  yours — that's  what  you  mean  ?  ' 

'  You  may  suppose  it  is,'  she  said,  smiling.  '  And 
to  guard  against  this  you  must  help  me  to  keep  the 
secret  by  being  my  confederate.' 

To  be  Paula's  confederate ;  to-day,  indeed,  time  had 
brought  him  something  worth  waiting  for.  '  In  any- 
thing ! '  cried  Somerset. 

'  Only  in  this  ! '  said  she,  with  soft  severity.  '  And 
you  know  what  you  have  promised,  George !  And  you 
remember  there  is  to  be  no — what  we  talked  about ! 
Now  will  you  go  in  the  one-horse  brougham  to  Mark- 
ton  Station  this  afternoon,  and  meet  the  four  o'clock 
train  ?     Inquire  for  a  lady  for  Stancy  Castle — a   Miss 

282 


DE   STANCY 

Bell;  see  her  safely  into  the  carriage,  and  send  her 
straight  on  here.  I  am  particularly  anxious  that  she 
should  not  enter  the  town,  for  I  think  she  once  came 
to  ]\larkton  in  a  starring  company,  and  she  might  be 
recognized,  and  my  plan  be  defeated.' 

Thus  she  instructed  her  lover  and  devoted  friend ; 
and  when  he  could  stay  no  longer  he  left  her  in  the 
garden  to  return  to  his  studio.  As  Somerset  went  in 
by  the  garden  door  he  met  a  strange-looking  personage 
coming  out  by  the  same  passage — a  stranger,  with  the 
manner  of  a  Dutchman,  the  face  of  a  smelter,  and  the 
clothes  of  an  inhabitant  of  Guiana.  The  stranger,  whom 
we  have  already  seen  sitting  at  the  back  of  the  theatre 
the  night  before,  looked  hard  from  Somerset  to  Paula, 
and  from  Paula  again  to  Somerset,  as  he  stepped  out. 
Somerset  had  an  unpleasant  conviction  that  this  queer 
gentleman  had  been  standing  for  some  time  in  the 
doorway  unnoticed,  quizzing  him  and  his  mistress  as 
they  talked  together.  If  so  he  might  have  learnt  a 
secret. 

When  he  arrived  upstairs,  Somerset  went  to  a 
window  commanding  a  view  of  the  garden.  Paula  still 
stood  in  her  place,  and  the  stranger  was  earnestly  con- 
versing with  her.  Soon  they  passed  round  the  corner 
and  disappeared. 

It  was  now  time  for  him  to  see  about  starting  for 
Markton,  an  intelligible  zest  for  circumventing  the 
ardent  and  coercive  captain  of  artillery  saving  him 
from  any  unnecessary  delay  in  the  journey.  He  was 
at  the  station  ten  minutes  before  the  train  was  due  ; 
and  when  it  drew  up  to  the  platform  the  first  person 
to  jump  out  was  Captain  De  Stancy  in  sportsman's 
attire  and  with  a  gun  in  his  hand.  Somerset  nodded, 
and  De  Stancy  spoke,  informing  the  architect  that 
he  had  been  ten  miles  up  the  line  shooting  water- 
fowl. '  That's  Miss  Power's  carriage,  I  think/  he 
added. 

283 


A   LAODICEAN 

*  Yes,'  said  Somerset  carelessly.  '  She  expects  a 
friend,  I  believe.  We  shall  see  you  at  the  castle  again 
to-night  ? ' 

De  Stancy  assured  him  that  they  would,  and  the 
two  men  parted,  Captain  De  Stancy,  when  he  had 
glanced  to  see  that  the  carriage  was  empty,  going  on 
to  where  a  porter  stood  with  a  couple  of  spaniels. 

Somerset  now  looked  again  to  the  train.  While  his 
back  had  been  turned  to  converse  with  the  captain,  a 
lady  of  five-and- thirty  had  alighted  from  the  identical 
compartment  occupied  by  De  Stancy.  She  made  an 
inquiry  about  getting  to  Stancy  Castle,  upon  which 
Somerset,  who  had  not  till  now  observed  her,  went 
forward,  and  introducing  himself  assisted  her  to  the 
carriage  and  saw  her  safely  off. 

De  Stancy  had  by  this  time  disappeared,  and 
Somerset  walked  on  to  his  rooms  at  the  Lord-Quantock- 
Arms,  where  he  remained  till  he  had  dined,  picturing 
the  discomfiture  of  his  alert  rival  when  there  should 
enter  to  him  as  Princess,  not  Paula  Power,  but  Miss 
Bell  of  the  Regent's  Theatre,  London.  Thus  the  hour 
passed,  till  he  found  that  if  he  meant  to  see  the  issue 
of  the  plot  it  was  time  to  be  off. 

On  arriving  at  the  castle,  Somerset  entered  by  the 
public  door  from  the  hall  as  before,  a  natural  delicacy 
leading  him  to  feel  that  though  he  might  be  welcomed 
as  an  ally  at  the  stage-door — in  other  words,  the  door 
from  the  corridor — it  was  advisable  not  to  take  too 
ready  an  advantage  of  a  privilege  which,  in  the  existing 
secrecy  of  his  understanding  with  Paula,  might  lead  to 
an  overthrow  of  her  plans  on  that  point. 

Not  intending  to  sit  out  the  whole  performance, 
Somerset  contented  himself  with  standing  in  a  window 
recess  near  the  proscenium,  w'hence  he  could  observe 
both  the  stage  and  the  front  rows  of  spectators.  He 
was  quite  uncertain  whether  Paula  would  appear  among 
the   audience    to-night,    and    resolved    to    wait   events. 

284 


DE   STANCY 

Just  before  the  rise  of  the  curtain  the  young  lady  in 
question  entered  and  sat  down.  When  the  scenery 
was  disclosed  and  the  King  of  Navarre  appeared,  what 
was  Somerset's  surprise  to  find  that,  though  the  part 
was  the  part  taken  by  De  Stancy  on  the  previous 
night,  the  voice  was  that  of  Mr.  Mild ;  to  him,  at  the 
appointed  season,  entered  the  Princess,  namely,  Miss 
Barbara  Bell. 

Before  Somerset  had  recovered  from  his  crestfallen 
sensation  at  De  Stancy's  elusiveness,  that  officer  himself 
emerged  in  evening  dress  from  behind  a  curtain  forming 
a  wing  to  the  proscenium,  and  Somerset  remarked  that 
the  minor  part  originally  allotted  to  him  was  filled  by 
the  subaltern  who  had  enacted  it  the  night  before. 
De  Stancy  glanced  across,  whether  by  accident  or 
otherwise  Somerset  could  not  determine,  and  his  glance 
seemed  to  say  he  quite  recognized  there  had  been  a 
trial  of  wits  between  them,  and  that,  thanks  to  his 
chance  meeting  with  Miss  Bell  in  the  train,  his  had 
proved  the  stronger. 

The  house  being  less  crowded  to-night  there  were 
one  or  two  vacant  chairs  in  the  best  part.  De  Stancy, 
advancing  from  where  he  had  stood  for  a  few  moments, 
seated  himself  comfortably  beside  Miss  Power. 

On  the  other  side  of  her  he  now  perceived  the  same 
queer  elderly  foreigner  (as  he  appeared)  who  had  come 
to  her  in  the  garden  that  morning.  .Somerset  was 
surprised  to  perceive  also  that  Paula  with  very  little 
hesitation  introduced  him  and  De  Stancy  to  each  other. 
A  conversation  ensued  between  the  three,  none  the  less 
animated  for  being  carried  on  in  a  whisper,  in  which 
Paula  seemed  on  strangely  intimate  terms  with  the 
stranger,  and  the  stranger  to  show  feelings  of  great 
friendship  for  De  Stancy,  considering  that  they  must 
be  new  acquaintances. 

The  play  proceeded,  and  Somerset  still  lingered  in 
his    corner.       He    could    not    help    fancying    that    De 

285 


A   LAODICEAN 

S fancy's  ingenious  relinquishment  of  his  part,  and  its 
obvious  reason,  was  winning  Paula's  admiration.  His 
conduct  was  homage  carried  to  unscrupulous  and  in- 
convenient lengths,  a  sort  of  thing  which  a  woman  may 
chide,  but  which  she  can  never  resent.  Who  could  do 
otherwise  than  talk  kindly  to  a  man,  incline  a  little  to 
him,  and  condone  his  fault,  when  the  sole  motive  of  so 
audacious  an  exercise  of  his  wits  was  to  escape  acting 
with  any  other  heroine  than  herself. 

His  conjectures  were  brought  to  a  pause  by  the 
ending  of  the  comedy,  and  the  opportunity  afforded 
him  of  joining  the  group  in  front.  The  mass  of  people 
were  soon  gone,  and  the  knot  of  friends  assembled 
around  Paula  were  discussing  the  merits  and  faults  of 
the  two  days'  performance. 

'  My  uncle,  Mr.  Abner  Power,'  said  Paula  sud- 
denly to  Somerset,  as  he  came  near,  presenting  the 
stranger  to  the  astonished  young  man.  '  I  could  not 
see  you  before  the  performance,  as  I  should  have 
liked  to  do.  The  return  of  my  uncle  is  so  extraor- 
dinary that  it  ought  to  be  told  in  a  less  hurried  way 
than  this.  He  has  been  supposed  dead  by  all  of  us 
for  nearly  ten  years — ever  since  the  time  we  last  heard 
from  him.' 

'  For  which  I  am  to  blame,'  said  Mr.  Power,  nod- 
ding to  Paula's  architect.  'Yet  not  I,  but  accident 
and  a  sluggish  temperament.  There  are  times,  Mr. 
Somerset,  when  the  human  creature  feels  no  interest 
in  his  kind,  and  assumes  that  his  kind  feels  no 
interest  in  him.  The  feeling  is  not  active  enough 
to  make  him  fly  from  their  presence;  but  sufficient  to 
keep  him  silent  if  he  happens  to  be  away.  I  may 
not  have  described  it  precisely;  but  this  I  know,  that 
after  my  long  illness,  and  the  fancied  neglect  of  my 
letters ' 

'  For  which  my  father  was  not  to  blame,  since  he  did 
not  receive  them,'  said  Paula. 

2S6 


DE   STANCY 

'  For  which  nobody  was  to  blame — after  that,  I  say, 
I  wrote  no  more.' 

'You  have  much  pleasure  in  returning  at  last,  no 
doubt,'  said  Somerset, 

*  Sir,  as  I  remained  away  without  particular  pain, 
so  I  return  without  particular  joy.  I  speak  the  truth, 
and  no  compliments.  I  may  add  that  there  is  one 
exception  to  this  absence  of  feeling  from  my  heart, 
namely,  that  I  do  derive  great  satisfaction  from  seeing 
how  mightily  this  young  woman  has  grown  and  pre- 
vailed.' 

This  address,  though  delivered  nominally  to  Somerset, 
was  listened  to  by  Paula,  Mrs.  Goodman,  and  De  Stancy 
also.  After  uttering  it,  the  speaker  turned  away,  and 
continued  his  previous  conversation  with  Captain  De 
Stancy.  From  this  time  till  the  group  parted  he  never 
again  spoke  directly  to  Somerset,  paying  him  barely  so 
much  attention  as  he  might  have  expected  as  Paula's 
architect,  and  certainly  less  than  he  might  have  supposed 
his  due  as  her  accepted  lover. 

The  result  of  the  appearance,  as  from  the  tomb,  of 
this  wintry  man  was  that  the  evening  ended  in  a  frigid 
and  formal  way  which  gave  little  satisfaction  to  the 
sensitive  Somerset,  who  was  abstracted  and  constrained 
by  reason  of  thoughts  on  how  this  resuscitation  of  the 
uncle  would  affect  his  relation  with  Paula.  It  was  pos- 
sibly also  the  thought  of  two  at  least  of  the  others.  There 
had,  in  truth,  scarcely  yet  been  time  enough  to  adum- 
brate the  possibilities  opened  up  by  this  gentleman's 
return. 

The  only  private  word  exchanged  by  Somerset  with 
any  one  that  night  was  with  Mrs.  Goodman,  in  whom 
he  always  recognized  a  friend  to  his  cause,  though  the 
fluidity  of  her  character  rendered  her  but  a  feeble  one  at 
the  best  of  times.  She  informed  him  that  Mr.  Power 
had  no  sort  of  legal  control  over  Paula,  or  direction  in 
her  estates ;  but  Somerset  could  not  doubt  that  a  near 

287 


A   LAODICEAN 

and  only  blood  relation,  even  had  he  possessed  but  half 
the  static  force  of  character  that  made  itself  apparent  in 
Mr.  Power,  might  exercise  considerable  moral  influence 
over  the  girl  if  he  chose.  And  in  view  of  Mr.  Power's 
marked  preference  for  De  Stancy,  Somerset  had  many 
misgivings  as  to  its  operating  in  a  direction  favourable 
to  himself. 


DE   STANCY 


XI 

oOMERSET  was  deeply  engaged  with  his  draughts- 
men and  builders  during  the  three  following  days,  and 
scarcely  entered  the  occupied  wing  of  the  castle. 

At  his  suggestion  Paula  had  agreed  to  have  the 
works  executed  as  such  operations  were  carried  out  in 
old  times,  before  the  advent  of  contractors.  Each  trade 
required  in  the  building  was  to  be  represented  by  a 
master-tradesman  of  that  denomination,  who  should  stand 
responsible  for  his  own  section  of  labour,  and  for  no 
other,  Somerset  himself  as  chief  technicist  working  out 
his  designs  on  the  spot.  By  this  means  the  thorough- 
ness of  the  workmanship  would  be  greatly  increased  in 
comparison  with  the  modern  arrangement,  whereby  a 
nominal  builder,  seldom  present,  who  can  certainly  know 
no  more  than  one  trade  intimately  and  well,  and  who 
often  does  not  know  that,  undertakes  the  whole. 

But  notwithstanding  its  manifest  advantages  to  the 
proprietor,  the  plan  added  largely  to  the  responsil;ilities 
of  the  architect,  who,  with  his  master-mason,  master- 
carpenter,  master-plumber,  and  what  not,  had  scarcely  a 
moment  to  call  his  own.  Still,  the  method  being  upon 
the  face  of  it  the  true  one,  Somerset  supervised  with  a 
will. 

But  there  seemed  to  float  across  the  court  to  him 
from  the  inhabited  wing  an  intimation  that  things  were 

289  T 


A   LAODICEAN 

not  as  they  had  been  before ;  that  an  influence  adverse 
to  himself  was  at  work  behind  the  ashlared  face  of  inner 
wall  which  confronted  him.  Perhaps  this  was  because 
he  never  saw  Paula  at  the  windows,  or  heard  her  footfall 
in  that  half  of  the  building  given  over  to  himself  and 
his  myrmidons.  There  was  really  no  reason  other  than 
a  sentimental  one  why  he  should  see  her.  The  unin- 
habited part  of  the  castle  was  almost  an  independent 
structure,  and  it  was  quite  natural  to  exist  for  weeks  in 
this  wing  without  coming  in  contact  with  residents  in 
the  other. 

A  more  pronounced  cause  than  vague  surmise  was 
destined  to  perturb  him,  and  this  in  an  unexpected 
manner.  It  happened  one  morning  that  he  glanced 
through  a  local  paper  while  waiting  at  the  Lord-Quantock- 
Arms  for  the  pony-carriage  to  be  brought  round  in 
which  he  often  drove  to  the  castle.  The  paper  was  two 
days  old,  but  to  his  unutterable  amazement  he  read 
therein  a  paragraph  which  ran  as  follows  : — 

'We  are  informed  that  a  marriage  is  likely  to  be  arranged 
between  Captain  De  Stancy,  of  the  Royal  Horse  Artillery,  only 
surviving  son  of  Sir  William  De  Stancy,  Baronet,  and  Paula,  only 
daughter  of  the  late  John  Power,  Esq.,  M.P.,  of  Stancy  Castle.' 

Somerset  dropped  the  paper,  and  stared  out  of  the 
window.  Fortunately  for  his  emotions,  the  horse  and 
carriage  were  at  this  moment  brought  to  the  door,  so 
that  nothing  hindered  Somerset  in  driving  off  to  the 
spot  at  which  he  would  be  soonest  likely  to  learn  what 
truth  or  otherwise  there  was  in  the  newspaper  report. 
From  the  first  he  doubted  it :  and  yet  how  should  it 
have  got  there  ?  Such  strange  rumours,  like  paradoxical 
maxims,  generally  include  a  portion  of  truth.  Five  days 
had  elapsed  since  he  last  spoke  to  Paula. 

Reaching  the  castle  he  entered  his  own  quarters  as 
usual,  and  after  setting  the  draughtsmen  to  work  walked 
up  and   down   pondering  how  he  might  best  see  her 

390 


DE   STANCY 

vrithout  making  the  paragraph  the  ground  of  his  request 
for  an  interview  ;  for  if  it  were  a  fabrication,  such  a  reason 
would  wound  her  pride  in  her  own  honour  towards  him, 
and  if  it  were  partly  true,  he  would  certainly  do  better 
in  leaving  her  alone  than  in  reproaching  her.  It  w^ould 
simply  amount  to  a  proof  that  Paula  was  an  arrant 
coquette. 

In  his  meditation  he  stood  still,  closely  scanning  one 
of  the  jamb-stones  of  a  doorless  entrance,  as  if  to  dis- 
cover where  the  old  hinge-hook  had  entered  the  stone- 
work. He  heard  a  footstep  behind  him,  and  looking 
round  saw  Paula  standing  by.  She  held  a  newspaper 
in  her  hand.  The  spot  was  one  quite  hemmed  in  from 
observation,  a  fact  of  which  she  seemed  to  be  quite 
aware. 

'  I  have  something  to  tell  you,'  she  said  ;  '  something 
important.  But  you  are  so  occupied  with  that  old  stone 
that  I  am  obliged  to  wait.' 

'  It  is  not  true  surely!  '  he  said,  looking  at  the  paper. 

'  No,  look  here,'  she  said,  holding  up  the  sheet.  It 
was  not  what  he  had  supposed,  but  a  new  one — the 
local  rival  to  that  which  had  contained  the  announce- 
ment, and  was  still  damp  from  the  press.  She  pointed, 
and  he  read — 

*  We  are  authorized  to  state  that  there  is  no  foundation  whatever 
for  the  assertion  of  our  contemporary  that  a  marriage  is  liliely  to 
be  arranged  between  Captain  De  Stancy  and  Miss  Power  of  Stancy 
Castle.' 

Somerset  pressed  her  hand.  '  It  disturbed  me,'  he 
said,  *  though  I  did  not  believe  it.' 

'  It  astonished  me,  as  much  as  it  disturbed  you ;  and 
I  sent  this  contradiction  at  once.' 

'  How  could  it  have  got  there  ?  ' 

She  shook  her  head. 

'  You  have  not  the  least  knowledge  ? ' 

'  Not  the  least.     I  wish  I  had.' 

291 


A  LAODICEAN 

'  It  was  not  from  any  friends  of  De  Stancy's  ?  or 
himself?' 

'  It  was  not.  His  sister  has  ascertained  beyond 
doubt  that  he  knew  nothing  of  it.  Well,  now,  don't 
say  any  more  to  me  about  the  matter.' 

'  I'll  find  out  how  it  got  into  the  paper.' 

'  Not  now — any  future  time  will  do.  I  have  some- 
thing else  to  tell  you.' 

'  I  hope  the  news  is  as  good  as  the  last,'  he  said, 
looking  into  her  face  with  anxiety ;  for  though  that  face 
was  blooming,  it  seemed  full  of  a  doubt  as  to  how  her 
next  information  would  be  taken. 

'  O  yes ;  it  is  good,  because  everybody  says  so.  We 
are  going  to  take  a  delightful  journey.  My  new-created 
uncle,  as  he  seems,  and  I,  and  my  aunt,  and  perhaps 
Charlotte,  if  she  is  well  enough,  are  going  to  Nice,  and 
other  places  about  there.' 

'  To  Nice  ! '  said  Somerset,  rather  blankly.  '  And  I 
must  stay  here  ?  ' 

'  Why,  of  course  you  must,  considering  what  you 
have  undertaken  ! '  she  said,  looking  with  saucy  com- 
posure into  his  eyes.  '  My  uncle's  reason  for  proposing 
the  journey  just  now  is,  that  he  thinks  the  alterations 
will  make  residence  here  dusty  and  disagreeable  during 
the  spring.  The  opportunity  of  going  with  him  is  too 
good  a  one  for  us  to  lose,  as  I  have  never  been  there.' 

'  I  wish  I  was  going  to  be  one  of  the  party !  ,  .  , 
What  do  you  wish  about  it  ? ' 

She  shook  her  head  impenetrably.  '  A  woman  may 
wish  some  things  she  does  not  care  to  tell ! ' 

'  Are  you  really  glad  you  are  going,  dearest  ? — as  I 
must  call  you  just  once,'  said  the  young  man,  gazing 
earnestly  into  her  face,  which  struck  him  as  looking  far 
too  rosy  and  radiant  to  be  consistent  mth  ever  so  little 
regret  at  leaving  him  behind. 

'I  take  great  interest  in  foreign  trips,  especially  to 
the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean :  and  everybody  makes 

292 


DE   STANCY 

a  point  of  getting  away  when  the  house  is  turned  out  of 
the  window.' 

'  But  you  do  feel  a  little  sadness,  such  as  I  should 
feel  if  our  positions  were  reversed  ?  ' 

'  I  think  you  ought  not  to  have  asked  that  so  in- 
credulously,' she  murmured.  '  We  can  be  near  each 
other  in  spirit,  when  our  bodies  are  far  apart,  can  we 
not  ?  '  Her  tone  grew  softer  and  she  drew  a  little  closer 
to  his  side  with  a  slightly  nestling  motion,  as  she  went 
on,  *  May  I  be  sure  that  you  will  not  think  unkindly  of 
me  when  I  am  absent  from  your  sight,  and  not  begrudge 
me  any  little  pleasure  because  you  are  not  there  to  share 
it  with  me  ?  ' 

'  May  you !  Can  you  ask  it  ?  ...  As  for  me,  I 
shall  have  no  pleasure  to  be  begrudged  or  otherwise. 
The  only  pleasure  I  have  is,  as  you  well  know,  in  you. 
\\Tien  you  are  with  me,  I  am  happy :  when  you  are 
away,  I  take  no  pleasure  in  anything.' 

'  I  don't  deserve  it.  I  have  no  right  to  disturb  you 
so,'  she  said,  very  gently.  '  But  I  have  given  you  some 
pleasure,  have  I  not  ?  A  little  more  pleasure  than  pain, 
perhaps  ? ' 

'  You  have,  and  yet.  .  .  .  But  I  don't  accuse  you, 
dearest.  Yes,  you  have  given  me  pleasure.  One  truly 
pleasant  time  was  when  we  stood  together  in  the 
summer-house  on  the  evening  of  the  garden-party,  and 
you  said  you  liked  me  to  love  you.' 

'  Yes,  it  was  a  pleasant  time,'  she  returned  thought- 
fully. '  How  the  rain  came  down,  and  formed  a  gauze 
between  us  and  the  dancers,  did  it  not ;  and  how  afraid 
we  were — at  least  I  was — lest  anybody  should  discover 
us  there,  and  how  quickly  I  ran  in  after  the  rain  was 
over ! ' 

*  Yes',  said  Somerset,  '  I  remember  it.  But  no  harm 
came  of  it  to  you.  .  .  .  And  perhaps  no  good  will  come 
of  it  to  me.' 

'  Do  not  be  premature  in  your  conclusions,  sir,'  she 

293 


A   LAODICEAN 


said  archly.  'If  you  really  do  feel  for  me  only  half 
what  you  say,  we  shall — j-ou  will  make  good  come  of  it 
— in  some  way  or  other.' 

'  Dear  Paula — now  I  believe  you,  and  can  bear  any- 


thin? 


'  Then  we  will  say  no  more ;  because,  as  you  recollect, 
we  agreed  not  to  go  too  far.  No  expostulations,  for  we 
are  going  to  be  practical  young  people ;  besides,  I  won't 
listen  if  you  utter  them.  I  simply  echo  your  words,  and 
say  I,  too,  believe  you.  Now  I  must  go.  Have  faith  in 
me,  and  don't  magnify  trifles  light  as  air.' 

'I  thmk  I  understand  you.  And  if  I  do,  it  will 
make  a  great  difference  in  my  conduct.  You  will  have 
no  cause  to  complain.' 

'  Then  you  must  not  understand  me  so  much  as  to 
make  much  difference  ;  for  your  conduct  as  my  architect 
is  perfect.  But  I  must  not  linger  longer,  though  I 
wished  you  to  know  this  news  from  my  very  own  lips.' 

'  Bless  you  for  it !     When  do  you  leave  ?  ' 

'The  day  after  to-morrow.' 

'  So  early  ?  Does  your  uncle  guess  anything  ?  Do 
you  wish  him  to  be  told  just  yet  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  to  the  first ;  no,  to  the  second.' 

'  I  may  write  to  you  ?  ' 

'  On  business,  yes.     It  will  be  necessary.' 

'  How  can  you  speak  so  at  a  time  of  parting  ?  ' 

'  Now,  George — you  see  I  say  George,  and  not  Mr. 
Somerset,  and  you  may  draw  your  own  inference — don't 
be  so  morbid  in  your  reproaches  !  I  have  informed  you 
that  you  may  write,  or  still  better,  telegraph,  since  the 
wire  is  so  handy — on  business.  Well,  of  course,  it  is 
for  you  to  judge  whether  you  will  add  postscripts  of 
another  sort.  There,  you  make  me  say  more  than  a 
woman  ought,  because  you  are  so  obtuse  and  literal. 
Good  afternoon — good-bye !     This  will  be  my  address.' 

She  handed  him  a  slip  of  paper,  and  flitted  away. 

Though  he  saw  her  again  after  this,  it  was  during  the 

294 


DE   STANCY 

bustle  of  preparation,  when  there  was  ahvays  a  third 
person  present,  usually  in  the  shape  of  that  breathing 
refrigerator,  her  uncle.  Hence  the  few  words  that  passed 
between  them  were  of  the  most  formal  description,  and 
chiefly  concerned  the  restoration  of  the  castle,  and  a 
church  at  Nice  designed  by  him,  which  he  wanted  her  to 
inspect. 

They  were  to  leave  by  an  early  afternoon  train,  and 
Somerset  was  invited  to  lunch  on  that  day.  The  morning 
was  occupied  by  a  long  business  consultation  in  the 
studio  with  INIr.  Power  and  Mrs.  Goodman  on  what 
rooms  were  to  be  left  locked  up,  what  left  in  charge  of 
the  servants,  and  what  thrown  open  to  the  builders  and 
v.-orkmen  under  the  surveillance  of  Somerset.  At  present 
the  work  consisted  mostly  of  repairs  to  existing  rooms, 
so  as  to  render  those  habitable  which  had  long  been  used 
only  as  stores  for  lumber.  Paula  did  not  appear  during 
this  discussion;  but  when  they  were  all  seated  in  the 
dining-hall  she  came  in  dressed  for  the  journey,  and, 
to  outward  appearance,  with  blithe  anticipation  at  its 
prospect  blooming  from  every  feature.  Next  to  her  came 
Charlotte  De  Stancy,  still  with  some  of  the  pallor  of 
an  invaUd,  but  wonderfully  brightened  up,  as  Somerset 
thought,  by  the  prospect  of  a  visit  to  a  delightful  shore. 
It  might  have  been  this ;  and  it  might  have  been  that 
Somerset's  presence  had  a  share  in  the  change. 

It  was  in  the  hall,  when  they  were  in  the  bustle  of 
leave-taking,  that  there  occurred  the  only  opportunity 
for  the  two  or  three  private  words  with  Paula  to  which 
his  star  treated  him  on  that  last  day.  His  took  the 
hasty  form  of,  *  You  will  write  soon  ?  ' 

'  Telegraphing  will  be  quicker,'  she  answered  in  the 
same  low  tone ;  and  v/hispering  '  Be  true  to  me  ! '  turned 
away. 

How  unreasonable  he  was !  In  addition  to  those 
words,  warm  as  they  were,  he  would  have  preferred  a 
little  paleness  of  cheek,  or  trembling  of  lip,  instead  of 

295 


A    LAODICEAN 

the  bloom  and  the  beauty  which  sat  upon  her  undis- 
turbed maidenhood,  to  tell  him  that  in  some  slight  way 
she  suffered  at  his  loss. 

Immediately  after  this  they  went  to  the  carriages 
waiting  at  the  door.  Somerset,  who  had  in  a  measure 
taken  charge  of  the  castle,  accompanied  them  and  saw 
them  off,  much  as  if  they  were  his  visitors.  She  stepped 
in,  a  general  adieu  was  spoken,  and  she  was  gone. 

While  the  carriages  rolled  away,  he  ascended  to  the 
top  of  the  tower,  where  he  saw  them  lessen  to  spots  on 
the  road,  and  turn  the  corner  out  of  sight.  The  chances 
of  a  rival  seemed  to  grow  in  proportion  as  Paula  receded 
from  his  side;  but  he  could  not  have  answered  why. 
He  had  bidden  her  and  her  relatives  adieu  on  her  own 
doorstep,  like  a  privileged  friend  of  the  family,  while  De 
Stancy  had  scarcely  seen  her  since  the  play-night.  That 
the  silence  into  which  the  captain  appeared  to  have  sunk 
was  the  placidity  of  conscious  power,  was  scarcely  pro- 
bable; yet  that  adventitious  aids  existed  for  De  Stancy 
he  could  not  deny.  The  link  formed  by  Charlotte 
between  De  Stancy  and  Paula,  much  as  he  liked  the 
ingenuous  girl,  was  one  that  he  could  have  wished  away. 
It  constituted  a  bridge  of  access  to  Paula's  inner  life 
and  feelings  which  nothing  could  rival ;  except  that  one 
fact  which,  as  he  firmly  believed,  did  actually  rival  it, 
giving  him  faith  and  hope ;  his  own  primary  occupation 
of  Paula's  heart.  Moreover,  Mrs.  Goodman  would  be 
an  influence  favourable  to  himself  and  his  cause  during 
the  journey ;  though,  to  be  sure,  to  set  against  her  there 
was  the  phlegmatic  and  obstinate  Abner  Power,  in  whom, 
apprised  by  those  subtle  media  of  intelligence  which 
lovers  possess,  he  fancied  he  saw  no  friend. 

Somerset  remained  but  a  short  time  at  the  castle 
that  day.  The  light  of  its  chambers  had  fled,  the  gross 
grandeur  of  the  dictatorial  towers  oppressed  him,  and 
the  studio  was  hateful.  He  remembered  a  promise 
made  long  ago  to  Mr.  Woodwell  of  calling  upon  him 

296 


b 


DE   STANCY 

some  afternoon  ;  and  a  visit  which  had  not  much  attrac- 
tiveness in  it  at  other  times  recommended  itself  nov\', 
through  being  the  one  possible  way  open  to  him  of 
hearing  Paula  named  and  her  doings  talked  of  Hence 
in  walking  back  to  Markton,  instead  of  going  up  the 
High  Street,  he  turned  aside  into  the  unfrequented  foot- 
way that  led  to  the  minister's  cottage. 

Mr.  Woodwell  was  not  indoors  at  the  moment  of  his 
call,  and  Somerset  lingered  at  the  doorway,  and  cast  his 
eyes  around.  It  was  a  house  which  typified  the  drearier 
tenets  of  its  occupier  with  great  exactness.  It  stood 
upon  its  spot  of  earth  without  any  natural  union  with 
it :  no  mosses  disguised  the  stiff  straight  line  where  wall 
met  earth ;  not  a  creeper  softened  the  aspect  of  the 
bare  front.  The  garden  walk  was  strewn  with  loose 
clinkers  from  the  neighbouring  foundry,  which  rolled 
under  the  pedestrian's  foot  and  jolted  his  soul  out  of 
him  before  he  reached  the  porchless  door.  But  all  was 
clean,  and  clear,  and  dry. 

Whether  Mr.  Woodwell  was  personally  responsible 
for  this  condition  of  things  there  was  not  time  to  closely 
consider,  for  Somerset  perceived  the  minister  coming 
up  the  walk  towards  him.  Mr.  W^oodwell  welcomed 
him  heartily;  and  yet  with  the  mien  of  a  man  whose 
mind  has  scarcely  dismissed  some  scene  which  has  pre- 
ceded the  one  that  confronts  him.  What  that  scene 
was  soon  transpired. 

'  I  have  had  a  busy  afternoon,'  said  the  minister,  as 
they  walked  indoors ;  '  or  rather  an  exciting  afternoon. 
Your  client  at  Stancy  Castle,  whose  uncle,  as  I  imagine 
you  know,  has  so  unexpectedly  returned,  has  left  with 
him  to-day  for  the  south  of  France ;  and  I  wished  to  ask 
her  before  her  departure  some  questions  as  to  how  a 
charity  organized  by  her  father  was  to  be  administered 
in  her  absence.  But  I  have  been  very  unfortunate. 
She  could  not  find  time  to  see  me  at  her  own  house, 
and   I  awaited   her   at   the  station,  all  to  no  purpose, 

297 


A   LAODICEAN 

owing   to   the   presence  of  her  friends.       Well,  well,  I 
must  see  if  a  letter  will  find  her.' 

Somerset  asked  if  anybody  of  the  neighbourhood 
was  there  to  see  them  off. 

'  Yes,  that  was  the  trouble  of  it.  Captain  De  Stancy 
was  there,  and  quite  monopolized  her.  I  don't  know 
what  'tis  coming  to,  and  perhaps  I  have  no  business  to 
inquire,  since  she  is  scarcely  a  member  of  our  church 
now.  Who  could  have  anticipated  the  daughter  of 
my  old  friend  John  Power  developing  into  the  ordinary 
gay  woman  of  the  world  as  she  has  done  ?  Who  could 
have  expected  her  to  associate  with  people  who  show 
contempt  for  their  Maker's  intentions  by  flippantly 
assuming  other  characters  than  those  in  which  He 
created  them  ? ' 

'  You  mistake  her,'  murmured  Somerset,  in  a  voice 
which  he  vainly  endeavoured  to  attune  to  philosophy. 
'  Miss  Power  has  some  very  rare  and  beautiful  qualities 
in  her  nature,  though  I  confess  I  tremble — fear  lest  the 
De  Stancy  influence  should  be  too  strong.' 

'  Sir,  it  is  already !  Do  you  remember  my  telling 
you  that  I  thought  the  force  of  her  surroundings  would 
obscure  the  pure  daylight  of  her  spirit,  as  a  monkish 
window  of  coloured  images  attenuates  the  rays  of  God's 
sun?  I  do  not  wish  to  indulge  in  rash  surmises,  but 
her  oscillation  from  her  family  creed  of  Calvinistic 
truth  towards  the  traditions  of  the  De  Stancys  has 
been  so  decided,  though  so  gradual,  that — well,  I  may 
be  wrong.' 

'  That  what  ?  '  said  the  young  man  sharply, 

'  I  sometimes  think  she  will  take  to  her  as  husband 
the  preseit  representative  of  that  impoverished  line — 
Captain  De  Stancy — which  she  may  easily  do,  if  she 
chooses,  as  his  behaviour  to-day  showed.' 

'  He  was  probably  there  on  account  of  his  sister,' 
said  Somerset,  trying  to  escape  the  mental  picture  of 
farewell  gallantries  bestowed  on  Paula. 

298 


DE   STANCY 

'  It  was  hinted  at  in  the  papers  the  other  day.' 

'  And  it  was  flatly  contradicted.' 

'  Yes.  Well,  we  shall  see  in  the  Lord's  good  time ; 
I  can  do  no  more  for  her.  And  now,  Mr.  Somerset, 
pray  take  a  cup  of  tea.' 

The  revelations  of  the  minister  depressed  Somerset 
a  little,  and  he  did  not  stay  long.  As  he  went  to  the 
door  Woodwell  said,  '  There  is  a  worthy  man — the 
deacon  of  our  chapel,  Mr.  Havill — who  would  like  to 
be  friendly  with  you.  Poor  man,  since  the  death  of  his 
wife  he  seems  to  have  something  on  his  mind — some 
trouble  which  my  words  will  not  reach.  If  ever  you 
are  passing  his  door,  please  give  him  a  look  in.  He 
fears  that  calling  on  you  might  be  an  intrusion.' 

Somerset  did  not  clearly  promise,  and  went  his 
way.  The  minister's  allusion  to  the  announcement 
of  the  marriage  reminded  Somerset  that  she  had  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  know  how  the  paragraph  came  to  be 
inserted.  The  wish  had  been  carelessly  spoken ;  but 
he  went  to  the  newspaper  office  to  make  inquiries  on 
the  point. 

The  reply  was  unexpected.  The  reporter  informed 
his  questioner  that  in  returning  from  the  theatricals, 
at  which  he  was  present,  he  shared  a  fly  with  a  gentle- 
man who  assured  him  that  such  an  alliance  was  certain, 
so  obviously  did  it  recommend  itself  to  all  concerned, 
as  a  means  of  strengthening  both  families.  The  gentle- 
man's knowledge  of  the  Powers  was  so  precise  that 
the  reporter  did  not  hesitate  to  accept  his  assertion. 
He  was  a  man  who  had  seen  a  great  deal  of  the 
world,  and  his  face  was  noticeable  for  the  seams  and 
scars  on  it. 

Somerset  recognized  Paula's  uncle  in  the  portrait. 

Hostilities,  then,  were  beginning.  The  paragraph 
had  been  meant  as  the  first  slap.  Taking  her  abrond 
was  the  second. 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH- 
SOMERSET,  DARE,  AND  DE  STAMCY 


SOMERSET,    DARE,   AND   DE   STANCY 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH 
SOMERSET,  DARE,  AND  DE  STANCY 


1  HERE  was  no  part  of  Paula's  journey  in  which 
Somerset  did  not  think  of  her.  He  imagined  her  in 
the  hotel  at  Havre,  in  her  brief  rest  at  Paris ;  her  drive 
past  the  Place  de  la  Bastille  to  the  Boulevart  Mazas  to 
take  the  train  for  Lyons ;  her  tedious  progress  through 
the  dark  of  a  winter  night  till  she  crossed  the  isothermal 
line  which  told  of  the  beginning  of  a  southern  atmos- 
phere, and  onwards  to  the  ancient  blue  sea. 

Thus,  between  the  hours  devoted  to  architecture, 
he  passed  the  next  three  days.  One  morning  he  set 
himself,  by  the  help  of  John,  to  practise  on  the  tele- 
graph instrument,  expecting  a  message.  But  though 
he  watched  the  machine  at  every  opportunity,  or  kept 
some  other  person  on  the  alert  in  its  neighbourhood, 
no  message  arrived  to  gratify  him  till  after  the  lapse  of 
nearly  a  fortnight.  Then  she  spoke  from  her  new 
habitation  nine  hundred  miles  away,  in  these  meagre 
words : — 

'Are  seUled   at   the   address  given.      Can   now  aUend  to  any 
inquiry  about  the  building.' 

The   pointed   implication    that   she   could  attend    to 


A   LAODICEAN 

inquiries  about  nothing  else,  breathed  of  the  veritable 
Paula  so  distinctly  that  he  could  forgive  its  sauciness. 
His  reply  was  soon  despatched  : — 

'  Will  write  particulars  of  our  progress.     Always  the  same.' 

The  last  three  words  formed  the  sentimental  appendage 
which  she  had  assured  him  she  could  tolerate,  and  which 
he  hoped  she  might  desire. 

He  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  making  a  little 
sketch  to  show  what  had  been  done  in  the  castle  since 
her  departure.  This  he  despatched  with  a  letter  of  ex- 
planation ending  in  a  paragraph  of  a  different  tenor  : — 

'I  have  demonstrated  our  progress  as  well  as  I  could  ;  but 
another  subject  has  been  in  my  mind,  even  whilst  writing  the 
former.  Ask  yourself  if  you  use  me  well  in  keeping  me  a  fortnight 
before  you  so  much  as  say  that  you  have  arrived?  The  one  thing 
that  reconciled  me  to  your  departure  was  the  thought  that  I  should 
hear  early  from  you  :  my  idea  of  being  able  to  submit  to  your 
absence  was  based  entirely  upon  that. 

'But  I  have  resolved  not  to  be  out  of  humour,  and  to  believe 
that  your  scheme  of  reserve  is  not  unreasonable  ;  neither  do  I 
quarrel  with  your  injunction  to  keep  silence  to  all  relatives.  I  do 
not  know  anything  I  can  say  to  show  you  more  plainly  my  acqui- 
escence in  your  wish  "  not  to  go  too  far "  (in  short,  to  keep  yourself 
dear — by  dear  I  mean  not  cheap — you  have  been  dear  in  the  other 
sense  a  long  time,  as  you  know),  than  by  not  urging  you  to  go  a 
single  degree  further  in  warmth  than  you  please.' 

When  this  was  posted  he  again  turned  his  attention 
to  her  walls  and  towers,  which  indeed  were  a  dumb 
consolation  in  many  ways  for  the  lack  of  herself  There 
was  no  nook  in  the  castle  to  which  he  had  not  access 
or  could  not  easily  obtain  access  by  applying  for  the 
keys,  and  this  propinquity  of  things  belonging  to  her 
served  to  keep  her  image  before  him  even  more  con- 
stantly than  his  memories  would  have  done. 

Three   days  and   a   half  after   the  despatch   of  his 

304 


SOMERSET,    DARE,    AND    DE   STANCY 

subdued  effusion  the  telegraph  called  to  tell  him  the 
good  news  that 

'  Your  letter  and  drawing  are  just  received.  Thanks  for  the 
latter.     Will  reply  to  the  former  by  post  this  afternoon.' 

It  was  with  cheerful  patience  that  he  attended  to  his 
three  draughtsmen  in  the  studio,  or  walked  about  the 
environs  of  the  fortress  during  the  fifty  hours  spent  by 
her  presumably  tender  missive  on  the  road.  A  light 
fleece  of  snow  fell  during  the  second  night  of  waiting, 
inverting  the  position  of  long-established  lights  and 
shades,  and  lowering  to  a  dingy  grey  the  approximately 
white  walls  of  other  weathers ;  he  could  trace  the  post- 
man's footmarks  as  he  entered  over  the  bridge,  knowing 
them  by  the  dot  of  his  walking-stick  :  on  entering  the 
expected  letter  was  waiting  upon  his  table.  He  looked 
at  its  direction  with  glad  curiosity ;  it  was  the  first  letter 
he  had  ever  received  from  her. 

'  Hotel  ,  Nice,  Feb.  14. 

*My  dear  Mr.  Somerset'  (the  'George,'  then,  to  which  she 
had  so  kindly  treated  him  in  her  last  conversation,  was  not  to  be 
continued  in  black  and  white), — 

'  Your  letter  explaining  the  progress  of  the  work,  aided  by  the 
sketch  enclosed,  gave  me  as  clear  an  idea  of  the  advance  made 
since  my  departure  as  I  could  have  gained  by  being  present.  I 
feel  every  confidence  in  you,  and  am  quite  sure  the  restoration 
is  in  good  hands.  In  this  opinion  both  my  aunt  and  my  uncle 
coincide.  Please  act  entirely  on  your  own  judgment  in  everything, 
and  as  soon  as  you  give  a  certificate  to  the  builders  for  the  first 
instalment  of  their  money  it  will  be  promptly  sent  by  my  solicitors. 

'  You  bid  me  ask  myself  if  I  have  used  you  well  in  not  sending 
intelligence  of  myself  till  a  fortnight  after  I  had  left  you.  Now, 
George,  don't  be  unreasonable !  Let  me  remind  you  that,  as  a 
certain  apostle  said,  there  are  a  thousand  things  lawful  which  are 
not  expedient.  I  say  this,  not  from  pride  in  my  own  conduct,  but 
to  offer  you  a  very  fair  explanation  of  it.  Your  resolve  not  to  be 
out  of  humour  with  me  suggests  that  you  have  been  sorely  tempted 
that  way,  else  why  should  such  a  resolve  have  been  necessary  ? 

305  U 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  If  you  only  knew  what  passes  in  my  mind  sometimes  you 
would  perhaps  not  be  so  ready  to  blame.  Shall  I  tell  you  ?  No. 
For,  if  it  is  a  great  emotion,  it  may  afford  you  a  cruel  satisfaction 
at  finding  I  suffer  through  separation  ;  and  if  it  be  a  growing  in- 
difference to  you,  it  will  be  inflicting  gratuitous  unhappiness  upon 
you  to  say  so,  if  you  care  for  me ;  as  I  sometimes  think  you  may 
do  a  little" 

('  O,  Paula ! '  said  Somerset.) 

'  Please  which  way  would  you  have  it  ?  But  it  is  better  that 
you  should  guess  at  what  I  feel  than  that  you  should  distinctly 
know  it.  Notwithstanding  this  assertion  you  will,  I  know,  adhere 
to  your  first  prepossession  in  favour  of  prompt  confessions.  In  spite 
of  that,  I  fear  that  upon  trial  such  promptness  would  not  produce 
that  happiness  which  your  fancy  leads  you  to  expect.  Your  heart 
would  weary  in  time,  and  when  once  that  happens,  good-bye  to 
the  emotion  you  have  told  me  of.  Imagine  such  a  case  clearly 
and  you  will  perceive  the  probability  of  what  I  say.  At  the  same 
time  I  admit  that  a  woman  who  is  ojily  a  creature  of  evasions  and 
disguises  is  very  disagreeable. 

'  Do  not  write  very  frequently,  and  never  write  at  all  unless  you 
have  some  real  information  about  the  castle  works  to  communicate. 
I  will  explain  to  you  on  another  occasion  why  I  make  this  request. 
You  will  possibly  set  it  down  as  additional  evidence  of  my  cold- 
heartedness.  If  so  you  must.  Would  you  also  mind  writing  the 
business  letter  on  an  independent  sheet,  with  a  proper  beginning 
and  ending?  Whether  you  inclose  another  sheet  is  of  course 
optional.— Sincerely  yours,  Paula  Power.' 

Somerset  had  a  suspicion  that  her  order  to  him  not 
to  neglect  the  business  letter  was  to  escape  any  invidious 
remarks  from  her  uncle.  He  wished  she  would  be  more 
explicit,  so  that  he  might  know  exacdy  how  matters 
stood  with  them,  and  whether  Abner  Power  had  ever 
ventured  to  express  disapproval  of  him  as  her  lover. 

But  not  knowing,  he  waited  anxiously  for  a  new 
architectural  event  on  which  he  might  legitimately  send 
her  another  line.  This  occurred  about  a  week  later, 
when    the    men   engaged    in    digging    foundations    dis- 

^06 


SOiMERSET.    DARE,   AND    DE   STANCY 

covered  remains  of  old  ones  which  warranted  a  modifica- 
tion of  the  original  plan.  He  accordingly  sent  off  his 
professional  advice  on  the  point,  requesting  her  assent 
or  otherwise  to  the  amendment,  winding  up  the  inquiry 
with  '  Yours  faithfully.'     On  another  sheet  he  wrote  : — • 

'  Do  you  suffer  from  any  unpleasantness  in  the  manner  of  others 
on  account  of  me  ?  If  so,  inform  me,  Paula.  I  cannot  otherwise 
interpret  your  request  for  the  separate  sheets.  While  on  this  point 
I  will  tell  you  what  I  have  learnt  relative  to  the  authorship  of  that 
false  paragraph  about  your  engagement.  It  was  communicated  to 
the  paper  by  your  uncle.  Was  the  wish  father  to  the  thought,  or 
could  he  have  been  misled,  as  many  were,  by  appearances  at  the 
theatricals  ? 

'  If  I  am  not  to  write  to  you  without  a  professional  reason,  surely 
you  can  write  to  me  without  such  an  excuse  ?  When  you  write  tell 
me  of  yourself.  There  is  nothing  I  so  much  wish  to  hear  of.  Write 
a  great  deal  about  your  daily  doings,  for  my  mind's  eye  keeps  those 
sweet  operations  more  distinctly  before  me  than  my  bodily  sight  does 
my  own. 

'  You  say  nothing  of  having  been  to  look  at  the  chapel-of-ease  I 
told  you  of,  the  plans  of  which  I  made  when  an  architect's  pupil, 
working  in  metres  instead  of  feet  and  inches,  to  my  immense  per- 
plexity, that  the  drawings  might  be  understood  by  the  foreign  work- 
men. Go  there  and  tell  me  what  you  think  of  its  design.  I  can 
assure  you  that  every  curve  thereof  is  my  own. 

'  How  I  wish  you  would  invite  me  to  run  over  and  see  you,  if 
only  for  a  day  or  two,  for  my  heart  runs  after  you  in  a  most  distracted 
manner.  Dearest,  you  entirely  fill  my  life  !  But  I  forget ;  we  have 
resolved  not  to  go  vi^y  far.  But  the  fact  is  I  am  half  afraid  lest, 
with  such  reticence,  you  should  not  remember  how  very  much  I  am 
yours,  and  with  what  a  dogged  constancy  I  shall  always  remember 
you.  Paula,  sometimes  I  have  horrible  misgivings  that  something 
will  divide  us,  especially  if  we  do  not  make  a  more  distinct  show  of 
our  true  relationship.  True  do  I  say  ?  I  mean  the  relationship 
which  I  think  exists  between  us,  but  which  you  do  not  affirm  loo 
clearly. — Yours  always.' 

Away  southward  like  the  swallow  went  the  tender 
lines.     He  wondered  if  she  would   notice  his   hint   of 

307 


A   LAODICEAN 

being  ready  to  pay  her  a  flying  visit,  if  permitted  to  do 
so.  His  fancy  dwelt  on  that  further  side  of  France,  the 
very  contours  of  whose  shore  were  now  lines  of  beauty 
for  him.  He  prowled  in  the  library,  and  found  interest 
in  the  mustiest  facts  relating  to  that  place,  learning  with 
aesthetic  pleasure  that  the  number  of  its  population 
was  fifty  thousand,  that  the  mean  temperature  of  its 
atmosphere  was  60"  Fahrenheit,  and  that  the  peculiarities 
of  a  mistral  were  far  from  agreeable. 

He  waited  over  long  for  her  reply ;  but  it  ultimately 
came.     After  the  usual  business  preliminary,  she  said  : — 

'As  requested,  1  have  visited  the  little  church  you  designed. 
It  gave  me  great  pleasure  to  stand  before  a  building  whose  outline 
and  details  had  come  from  the  brain  of  such  a  valued  friend  and 
adviser.' 

('Valued  friend  and  adviser,'  repeated  Somerset 
critically.) 

'  I  like  the  style  much,  especially  that  of  the  windows — Early 
English  are  they  not?  I  am  going  to  attend  service  there  next 
Sunday,  because  you  were  the  architect,  and  for  no  godly  reason  at 
all.  Does  that  content  you  ?  Fie  for  your  despondency  !  Remember 
M.  Aurelius  :  "  This  is  the  chief  thing  :  Be  not  perturbed  ;  for  all 
things  are  of  the  nature  of  the  Universal."  Indeed  I  am  a  little 
SHrprised  at  your  having  forebodings,  after  my  assurance  to  you 
before  I  left.  I  have  none.  My  opinion  is  that,  to  be  happy,  it  is 
best  to  think  that,  as  we  are  the  product  of  events,  events  will  con- 
tinue to  produce  that  which  is  in  harmony  with  us.  .  .  .  You  are 
too  faint-hearted,  and  that's  the  truth  of  it.  I  advise  you  not  to 
abandon  yourself  to  idolatry  too  readily  ;  you  know  what  I  mean. 
It  fills  me  with  remorse  when  I  think  how  very  far  below  such  a 
position  my  actual  worth  removes  me. 

'  I  should  like  to  receive  another  letter  from  you  as  soon  as  you 
have  got  over  the  misgiving  you  speak  of,  but  don't  write  too  soon. 
I  wish  I  could  write  anything  to  raise  your  spirits,  but  you  may  be 
so  perverse  that  if,  in  order  to  do  this.  I  tell  you  of  the  races,  routs, 
scenery,  gaieties,  and  gambling  going  on  in  this  place  and  neigh- 
bourhood (into  which  of  course  I  cannot  help  being  a  little  drawn), 

308 


SOMERSET,    DARE,   AND   DE   STANCY 

you  may  declare  that  my  words  make  you  worse  than  ever.  Don't 
pass  the  line  I  have  set  down  in  the  way  you  were  tempted  to  do  in 
your  last  ;  and  not  too  many  Dearests — at  least  as  yet.  This  is  not 
a  time  for  effusion.  You  have  my  very  warm  affection,  and  that's 
enough  for  the  present.' 

As  a  love-letter  this  missive  was  tantalizing  enough, 
but  since  its  form  was  simply  a  continuation  of  what 
she  had  practised  before  she  left,  it  produced  no  undue 
misgiving  in  him.  Far  more  was  he  impressed  by  her 
omitting  to  answer  the  two  important  questions  he  had 
put  to  her.  First,  concerning  her  uncle's  attitude 
towards  them,  and  his  conduct  in  giving  such  strange 
information  to  the  reporter.  Second,  on  his,  Somerset's, 
paying  her  a  flying  visit  some  time  during  the  spring. 
Since  she  had  requested  it,  he  made  no  haste  in  his 
reply.  When  penned,  it  ran  in  the  words  subjoined, 
which,  in  common  with  every  line  of  their  corre- 
spondence, acquired  from  the  strangeness  of  subsequent 
circumstances  an  interest  and  a  force  that  perhaps  they 
did  not  intrinsically  possess. 

'  People  cannot '  (he  wrote)  '  be  for  ever  in  good  spirits  on  this 
gloomy  side  of  the  Channel,  even  though  you  seem  to  be  so  on 
yours.  However,  that  I  can  abstain  from  letting  you  know  whether 
my  spirits  are  good  or  otherwise,  I  will  prove  in  our  future  corre- 
spondence. I  admire  you  more  and  more,  both  for  the  warm  feel- 
ing towards  me  which  I  firmly  believe  you  have,  and  for  your  ability 
to  maintain  side  by  side  with  it  so  much  dignity  and  resolution  with 
regard  to  foolish  sentiment.  Sometimes  I  think  I  could  have  put  up 
with  a  little  more  weakness  if  it  had  brought  with  it  a  little  more 
tenderness,  but  I  dismiss  all  that  when  I  mentally  survey  your  other 
qualities.  I  have  thought  of  fifty  things  to  say  to  you  of  the  too  far 
sort,  not  one  of  any  other  ;  so  that  your  prohibition  is  very  unfortu- 
nate, for  by  it  I  am  doomed  to  say  things  that  do  not  rise  spontan- 
eously to  my  lips.  You  say  that  our  shut-up  feelings  are  not  to  be 
mentioned  yet.     How  long  is  the  yet  to  last  ? 

'  But,  to  speak  more  solemnly,  matters  grow  very  serious  with  us, 
Paula — at  least  with  me  :  and  there  are  times  when  this  restraint  is 
really  unbearable.     It  is  possible  to  put  up  with  reserve  when  the 


A   LAODICEAN 

reserved  being  is  by  one's  side,  for  the  eyes  may  reveal  what  the 
lips  do  not.  But  when  she  is  absent,  what  was  piquancy  becomes 
harshness,  tender  railleries  become  cruel  sarcasm,  and  tacit  under- 
standings misunderstandings.  However  that  may  be,  you  shall 
never  be  able  to  reproach  me  for  touchiness.  I  still  esteem  you  as 
a  friend  ;  I  admire  you  and  love  you  as  a  woman.  This  I  shall 
always  do,  however  unconfiding  you  prove.' 


SOMERSET,    DARE,   AND   DE   STANCY 


II 

Without  knowing  it,  Somerset  was  drawing  near  to 
a  crisis  in  this  soft  correspondence  which  would  speedily 
put  his  assertions  to  the  test ;  but  the  knowledge  came 
upon  him  soon  enough  for  his  peace. 

Her  next  letter,  dated  March  9th,  was  the  shortest 
of  all  he  had  received,  and  beyond  the  portion  devoted 
to  the  building-works  it  contained  only  tlie  following 
sentences : — 

'  I  am  almost  angry  with  you,  George,  for  Iieing  vexed  because 
I  am  not  more  effusive.  Why  should  the  verbal  J  love  yoii  be  ever 
uttered  between  two  beings  of  opposite  sex  who  have  eyes  to  see 
signs?  During  the  seven  or  eight  months  that  we  have  known 
each  other,  you  have  discovered  my  regard  for  you,  and  what  more 
can  you  desire  ?  Would  a  reiterated  assertion  of  passion  really  do 
any  good  ?  Remember  it  is  a  natural  instinct  with  us  women  to 
retain  the  power  of  obliging  a  man  to  hope,  fear,  pray,  and  beseech 
as  long  as  we  think  fit,  before  we  confess  to  a  reciprocal  affection. 

'  I  am  now  going  to  own  to  a  weakness  about  which  I  hail  in- 
tended to  keep  silent.  It  will  not  perhaps  add  to  your  respect  for 
me.  My  uncle,  whom  in  many  ways  I  like,  is  displeased  with  me 
for  keeping  up  this  correspondence  so  regularly.  I  am  quite  per- 
verse enough  to  venture  to  disregard  his  feelings  ;  but  considering 
the  relationship,  and  his  kindness  in  other  respects,  I  should  prefer 
not  to  do  so  at  present.  Honestly  speaking,  1  want  the  courage  to 
resist  him  in  some  things.  He  said  to  me  the  other  day  that  he  was 
very  much  surprised  that  I  did  not  depend  upon  his  judgment  for 
my  future  happiness.  Whether  that  meant  much  or  little,  I  have 
resolved  to  connnunicate  with  you  only  by  telegrams  for  the  re- 

3" 


A   LAODICEAN 

mainder  of  the  time  we  are  here.  Please  reply  by  the  same  means 
only.  There,  now,  don't  flush  and  call  me  names !  It  is  for  the 
best,  and  we  want  no  nonsense,  you  and  I.  Dear  George,  I  feel 
more  than  I  say,  and  if  I  do  not  speak  more  plainly,  you  will  under- 
stand what  is  behind  after  all  I  have  hinted.  I  can  promise  you 
that  you  will  not  like  me  less  upon  knowing  me  better.  Hope  ever. 
I  would  give  up  a  good  deal  for  you.     Good-bye  ! ' 

This  brought  Somerset  some  cheerfulness  and  a 
good  deal  of  gloom.  He  silently  reproached  her,  who 
was  apparently  so  independent,  for  lacking  independ- 
ence in  such  a  vital  matter.  Perhaps  it  was  mere  sex, 
perhaps  it  was  peculiar  to  a  few,  that  her  independence 
and  courage,  like  Cleopatra's,  failed  her  occasionally  at 
the  last  moment. 

One  curious  impression  which  had  often  haunted 
him  now  returned  with  redoubled  force.  He  could 
not  see  himself  as  the  husband  of  Paula  Power  in  any 
likely  future.  He  could  not  imagine  her  his  wife. 
People  were  apt  to  run  into  mistakes  in  their  presenti- 
ments ;  but  though  he  could  picture  her  as  queening 
it  over  him,  as  avowing  her  love  for  him  unreservedly, 
even  as  compromising  herself  for  him,  he  could  not 
see  her  in  a  state  of  domesticity  with  him. 

Telegrams  being  commanded,  to  the  telegraph  he 
repaired,  when,  after  two  days,  an  immediate  wish  to 
communicate  with  her  led  him  to  dismiss  vague  con- 
jecture on  the  future  situation.  His  first  telegram  took 
the  following  form  : — 

'  I  give  up  the  letter  writing.  I  will  part  with  anything  to  please 
you  but  yourself.  Your  comfort  with  your  relative  is  the  first  thing 
to  be  considered  :  not  for  the  world  do  I  wish  you  to  make  divisions 
within  doors.     Yours.' 

Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday  passed,  and  on 
Saturday  a  telegram  came  in  reply : — 

'  I  can  fear,  grieve  at,  and  complain  of  nothing,  having  your  nice 
promise  to  consider  my  comfort  always.' 

312 


SOMERSET,   DARE,    AND    DE   STANCY 

This  was  very  pretty ;  but  it  admitted  little.  Such 
short  messages  were  in  themselves  poor  substitutes  for 
letters,  but  their  speed  and  easy  frequency  were  good 
qualities  which  the  letters  did  not  possess.  Three  days 
later  he  replied  : — 

'You  do  not  once  say  to  nie  "Come."  Would  such  a  strange 
accident  as  my  arrival  disturb  you  much  ? ' 

She  replied  rather  quickly  : — 

'  I  am  indisposed  to  answer  you  too  clearly.  Keep  your  heart 
strong:  'tis  a  censorious  world.', 

The  vagueness  there  shown  made  Somerset  per- 
emptory, and  he  could  not  help  replying  somewhat  more 
impetuously  than  usual : — 

'  Why  do  you  give  me  so  much  cause  for  anxiety  !  Why  treat 
me  to  so  much  mystification  1  Say  once,  distinctly,  that  what  I 
have  asked  is  given.' 

He  awaited  for  the  answer,  one  day,  two  days,  a 
week ;  but  none  came.  It  was  now  the  end  of  March, 
and  when  Somerset  walked  of  an  afternoon  by  the  river 
and  pool  in  the  lower  part  of  the  grounds,  his  ear  newly 
greeted  by  the  small  voices  of  frogs  and  toads  and  other 
creatures  who  had  been  torpid  through  the  winter,  he 
became  doubtful  and  uneasy  that  she  alone  should  be 
silent  in  the  awakening  year. 

He  waited  through  a  second  week,  and  there  was 
still  no  reply.  It  was  possible  that  the  urgency  of  his 
request  had  tempted  her  to  punish  him,  and  he  con- 
tinued his  walks,  to,  fro,  and  around,  with  as  close  an 
ear  to  the  undertones  of  nature,  and  as  attentive  an  eye 
to  the  charms  of  his  own  art,  as  the  grand  passion 
would  allow.  Now  came  the  days  of  battle  between 
winter  and  spring.     On  these  excursions,  though  spring 

313 


A   LAODICEAN 

was  to  the  forward  during  the  dayhght,  winter  would 
reassert  itself  at  night,  and  not  unfrequently  at  other 
moments.  Tepid  airs  and  nipping  breezes  met  on  the 
confines  of  sunshine  and  shade ;  trembling  raindrops 
that  were  still  akin  to  frost  crystals  dashed  themselves 
from  the  bushes  as  he  pursued  his  way  from  town  to 
castle;  the  birds  were  like  an  orchestra  waiting  for  the 
signal  to  strike  up,  and  colour  began  to  enter  into  the 
country  round. 

But  he  gave  only  a  modicum  of  thought  to  these 
proceedings.  He  rather  thought  such  things  as,  '  She 
can  afford  to  be  saucy,  and  to  find  a  source  of  blitheness 
in  my  love,  considering  the  power  that  wealth  gives  her 
to  pick  and  choose  almost  where  she  will.'  He  was 
bound  to  own,  however,  that  one  of  the  charms  of 
her  conversation  was  the  complete  absence  of  the  note 
of  the  heiress  from  its  accents.  That,  other  things 
equal,  her  interest  would  naturally  incline  to  a  person 
bearing  the  name  of  De  Stancy,  was  evident  from  her 
avowed  predilections.  His  original  assumption,  that 
she  was  a  personification  of  the  modern  spirit,  who 
had  been  dropped,  like  a  seed  from  the  bill  of  a 
bird,  into  a  chink  of  mediaevalism,  required  some 
qualification.  Romanticism,  which  will  exist  in  every 
human  breast  as  long  as  human  nature  itself  exists,  had 
asserted  itself  in  her.  Veneration  for  thinais  old,  not 
because  of  any  merit  in  them,  but  because  of  their 
long  continuance,  had  developed  in  her;  and  her 
modern  spirit  was  taking  to  itself  wings  and  flying 
away.  Whether  his  image  was  flying  with  the  other 
was  a  question  which  moved  him  all  the  more  deeply 
now  that  her  silence  gave  him  dread  of  an  affirmative 
answer. 

For  another  seven  days  he  stoically  left  in  suspension 
all  forecasts  of  his  possibly  grim  fate  in  being  the 
employed  and  not  the  beloved.  The  week  passed  :  he 
telegraphed  :  there  was  no  reply :  he  had  sudden  fears 

314 


SOMERSET.    DARE.    AND   DE   STANCY 

for  her  personal  safety  and  resolved  to  break  her  com- 
mand by  writing. 

'  Stancy  Castle,  April  13. 

'Dear  Paula, — Are  yon  ill  or  in  trouble?  It  is  impossible  in 
the  verj'  unquiet  state  you  have  put  me  into  by  your  silence  that  I 
should  abstain  from  writing.  Without  affectation,  you  sorely  dis- 
tress me,  and  I  think  you  would  hardly  have  done  it  could  you 
know  what  a  degree  of  anxiety  you  cause.  Why,  Paula,  do  you 
not  write  or  send  to  me  ?  What  have  I  done  that  you  should  treat 
me  like  this?  Do  write,  if  it  is  only  to  reproach  me.  I  am  com- 
pelled to  pass  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in  this  castle,  which 
reminds  me  constantly  of  you,  and  yet  eternally  lacks  your  presence. 
I  am  unfortunate  indeed  that  you  have  not  been  able  to  find  half- 
an-hour  during  the  last  month  to  tell  me  at  least  that  you  are  alive. 

'  You  have  always  been  ambiguous,  it  is  true  ;  but  I  thought  I 
saw  encouragement  in  your  eyes  ;  encouragement  certainly  was  in 
your  eyes,  and  who  would  not  have  been  deluded  by  them  and 
have  believed  them  sincere?  Yet  what  tenderness  can  there  be 
in  a  heart  that  can  cause  me  pain  so  wilfully  ! 

'There  may,  of  course,  be  some  deliberate  scheming  on  the 
part  of  your  relations  to  intercept  our  letters  ;  but  I  cannot  think 
it.  I  know  that  the  housekeeper  has  received  a  letter  from  your 
aunt  this  very  week,  in  which  she  incidentally  mentions  that 
all  are  well,  and  in  the  same  place  as  before.  How  then  can  I 
excuse  you  ? 

'  Then  write,  Paula,  or  at  least  telegraph,  as  you  proposed. 
Otherwise  I  am  resolved  to  take  your  silence  as  a  signal  to  treat 
your  fair  words  as  wind,  and  to  write  to  you  no  more.' 


A   LAODICEAN 


III 

jHLe  despatched  the  letter,  and  half-an-hour  afterwards 
felt  sure  that  it  would  mortally  offend  her.  But  he  had 
now  reached  a  state  of  temporary  indifference,  and  could 
contemplate  the  loss  of  such  a  tantalizing  property  with 
reasonable  calm. 

In  the  interim  of  waiting  for  a  reply  he  was  one 
day  walking  to  Markton,  when,  passing  Myrtle  Villa, 
he  saw  Sir  William  De  Stancy  ambling  about  his 
garden-path  and  examining  the  crocuses  that  palisaded 
its  edofe.  Sir  William  saw  him  and  asked  him  to  come 
in.  Somerset  was  in  the  mood  for  any  diversion  from 
his  own  affairs,  and  they  seated  themselves  by  the 
drawing-room  fire. 

'  I  am  much  alone  now,'  said  Sir  William,  '  and  if 
the  weather  were  not  very  mild,  so  that  I  can  get  out 
into  the  garden  every  day,  I  should  feel  it  a  great  deal.' 

'  You  allude  to  your  daughter's  absence  ?  ' 

'  And  my  son's.  Strange  to  say,  I  do  not  miss  her 
so  much  as  I  miss  him.  She  offers  to  return  at  any 
moment;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  deprive  her  of  the 
advantages  of  a  little  foreign  travel  with  her  friend. 
Always,  Mr.  Somerset,  give  your  spare  time  to  foreign 
countries,  especially  those  which  contrast  with  your  own 
in  topography,  language,  and  art.  That's  my  advice  to 
all  young  people  of  your  age.     Don't  waste  your  money 

316 


SOMERSET,    DARE,   AND   DE   STANCY 

on  expensive  amusements  at  home.  Practise  the 
strictest  economy  at  home,  to  have  a  margin  for  going 
abroad.' 

Economy,  which  Sir  WiUiam  had  never  practised, 
but  to  which,  after  exhausting  all  other  practices,  he 
now  raised  an  altar,  as  the  Athenians  did  to  the  un- 
known God,  was  a  topic  likely  to  prolong  itself  on  the 
baronet's  lips,  and  Somerset  contrived  to  interrupt  him 
by  asking — 

'  Captain  De  Stancy,  too,  has  gone  ?  Has  the  artillery, 
then,  left  the  barracks  ?  ' 

'  No,'  said  Sir  William.  '  But  my  son  has  made 
use  of  his  leave  in  running  over  to  see  his  sister  at 
Nice.' 

The  current  of  quiet  meditation  in  Somerset  changed 
to  a  busy  whirl  at  this  reply.  That  Paula  should 
become  indifferent  to  his  existence  from  a  sense  of 
superiority,  physical,  spiritual,  or  social,  was  a  suffi- 
ciently ironical  thing ;  but  that  she  should  have  relin- 
quished him  because  of  the  presence  of  a  rival  lent 
commonplace  dreariness  to  her  cruelty. 

Sir  William,  noting  nothing,  continued  in  the  tone 
of  clever  childishness  which  characterized  him  :  '  It  is 
very  singular  how  the  present  situation  has  been  led  up 
to  by  me.  Policy,  and  policy  alone,  has  been  the  rule 
of  my  conduct  for  many  years  past;  and  when  I  say 
that  I  have  saved  my  family  by  it,  I  believe  time  will 
show  that  I  am  within  the  truth.  I  hope  you  don't  let 
your  passions  outrun  your  policy,  as  so  many  young 
men  are  apt  to  do.  13ettcr  be  poor  and  politic,  than 
rich  and  headstrong :  that's  the  opinion  of  an  old  man. 
However,  I  was  going  to  say  that  it  was  purely  from 
policy  that  I  allowed  a  friendship  to  develop  l)etween 
my  daughter  and  Miss  Power,  and  now  events  are 
proving  tlie  wisdom  of  my  course.  Straws  show  how 
the  wind  blows,  and  there  are  little  signs  that  my  son 
Captain  De  Stancy  will  return  to  Stancy  Castle  by  the 


A    LAODICEAN 

fortunate  step  of  marrying  its  owner.  I  say  nothing  to 
either  of  them,  and  they  say  nothing  to  me;  but  my 
wisdom  lies  in  doing  nothing  to  hinder  such  a  con- 
summation, despite  inherited  prejudices.' 

Somerset  had  quite  time  enough  to  rein  himself  in 
during  the  old  gentleman's  locution,  and  the  voice  in 
which  he  answered  was  so  cold  and  reckless  that  it  did 
not  seem  his  own :  '  But  how  will  they  live  happily 
together  when  she  is  a  Dissenter,  and  a  Radical,  and 
a  New-light,  and  a  Neo-Greek,  and  a  person  of  red 
blood ;  while  Captain  De  Stancy  is  the  reverse  of  them 
all ! ' 

'I  anticipate  no  difficulty  on  that  score,'  said  the 
baronet.  'My  son's  star  lies  in  that  direction,  and, 
like  the  Magi,  he  is  following  it  without  trifling  with  his 
opportunity.  You  have  skill  in  architecture,  therefore 
you  follow  it.  My  son  has  skill  in  gallantry,  and  now 
he  is  about  to  exercise  it  profitably.' 

'  May  nobody  wish  him  more  harm  in  that  exercise 
than  I  do  ! '  said  Somerset  fervently. 

A  stagnant  moodiness  of  several  hours  which  followed 
his  visit  to  Myrtle  Villa  resulted  in  a  resolve  to  journey 
over  to  Paula  the  very  next  day.  He  now  felt  perfectly 
convinced  that  the  inviting  of  Captain  De  Stancy  to 
visit  them  at  Nice  was  a  second  stage  in  the  scheme 
of  Paula's  uncle,  the  premature  announcement  of  her 
marriage  having  been  the  first.  The  roundness  and 
neatness  of  the  whole  plan  could  not  fail  to  recommend 
it  to  the  mind  which  delighted  in  putting  involved 
things  straight,  and  such  a  mind  Abner  Power's  seemed 
to  be.  In  fact,  the  felicity,  in  a  politic  sense,  of  pairing 
the  captain  with  the  heiress  furnished  no  little  excuse 
for  manoeuvring  to  bring  it  about,  so  long  as  that 
manoeuvring  fell  short  of  unfairness,  which  Mr.  Power's 
could  scarcely  be  said  to  do. 

The  next  day  was  spent  in  furnishing  the  builders 
with    such    instructions    as    they    might    require    for   a 

3IU 


SOMERSET.   DARE,   AND    DE   STANCY 

coming   week   or   ten   days,   and   in   dropping  a  short 
note  to  Paula  ;  ending  as  follows  : — 

'  I  am  coming  to  see  you.  Possibly  you  will  refuse  me  an  inter- 
view.    Never  mind,  I  am  coming. — Yours,  G.  Somerset.' 

The  morning  after  that  he  was  up  and  away.  Between 
him  and  Paula  stretched  nine  hundred  miles  by  the  line 
of  journey  that  he  found  it  necessary  to  adopt,  namely, 
the  way  of  London,  in  order  to  inform  his  father  of  his 
movements  and  to  make  one  or  two  business  calls. 
The  afternoon  was  passed  in  attending  to  these  matters, 
the  night  in  speeding  onward,  and  by  the  time  that 
nine  o'clock  sounded  next  morning  through  the  sunless 
and  leaden  air  of  the  English  Channel  coasts,  he  had 
reduced  the  number  of  miles  on  his  list  by  two  hundred, 
and  cut  off  the  sea  from  the  impediments  between  him 
and  Paula. 

On  awakening  from  a  fitful  sleep  in  the  grey  dawn  of 
the  morning  following  he  looked  out  upon  Lyons,  quiet 
enough  now,  the  citizens  unaroused  to  the  daily  round 
of  bread-winning,  and  enveloped  in  a  haze  of  fog. 

Six  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  his  journey  had  been 
got  over ;  there  still  intervened  two  hundred  and  fifty 
between  him  and  the  end  of  suspense.  \\'hen  he  thought 
of  that  he  was  disinclined  to  pause ;  and  pressed  on  by 
the  same  train,  which  set  him  down  at  Marseilles  at 
mid-day. 

Plere  he  considered.  By  going  on  to  Nice  that 
afternoon  he  would  arrive  at  too  late  an  hour  to  call 
upon  her  the  same  evening :  it  would  therefore  be 
advisable  to  sleep  in  Marseilles  and  proceed  the  next 
morning  to  his  journey's  end,  so  as  to  meet  her  in  a 
brighter  condition  than  he  could  boast  of  to-day.  This 
he  accordingly  did,  and  leaving  Marseilles  the  next 
morning  about  eight,  found  himself  at  Nice  early  in  the 
afternoon. 

319 


A   LAODICEAN 

Now  that  he  was  actually  at  the  centre  of  his  gravita- 
tion he  seemed  even  further  away  from  a  feasible  meeting 
with  her  than  in  England.  While  afar  off,  his  presence 
at  Nice  had  appeared  to  be  the  one  thing  needful  for 
the  solution  of  his  trouble,  but  the  very  house  fronts 
seemed  now  to  ask  him  what  right  he  had  there.  Un- 
luckily, in  writing  from  England,  he  had  not  allowed  her 
time  to  reply  before  his  departure,  so  that  he  did  not 
know  what  difficulties  might  lie  in  the  way  of  her  seeing 
him  privately.  Before  deciding  what  to  do,  he  walked 
down  the  Avenue  de  la  Gare  to  the  promenade  between 
the  shore  and  the  Jardin  Public,  and  sat  down  to  think. 

The  hotel  which  she  had  given  him  as  her  address 
looked  right  out  upon  him  and  the  sea  beyond,  and  he 
rested  there  with  the  pleasing  hope  that  her  eyes  might 
glance  from  a  window  and  discover  his  form.  Every- 
thing in  the  scene  was  sunny  and  gay.  Behind  him  in 
the  gardens  a  band  was  playing;  before  him  was  the 
sea,  the  Great  sea,  the  historical  and  original  Mediter- 
ranean ;  the  sea  of  innumerable  characters  in  history  and 
legend  that  arranged  themselves  before  him  in  a  long 
frieze  of  memories  so  diverse  as  to  include  both  /Eneas 
and  St.  Paul. 

Northern  eyes  are  not  prepared  on  a  sudden  for  the 
impact  of  such  images  of  warmth  and  colour  as  meet 
them  southward,  or  for  the  vigorous  light  that  falls  from 
the  sky  of  this  favoured  shore.  In  any  other  circum- 
stances the  transparency  and  serenity  of  the  air,  the 
perfume  of  the  sea,  the  radiant  houses,  the  palms  and 
flowers,  would  have  acted  upon  Somerset  as  an  enchant- 
ment, and  wrapped  him  in  a  reverie;  but  at  present  he 
only  saw  and  felt  these  things  as  through  a  thick  glass 
which  kept  out  lialf  their  atmosphere. 

At  last  he  made  up  his  mind.  He  would  take  up 
his  quarters  at  her  hotel,  and  catch  echoes  of  her  and 
her  people,  to  learn  somehow  if  their  attitude  towards 
him   as   a   lover   were   actually  hostile,  before  formally 

330 


SOMERSET,  DARE,  AND  DE  STANCY 

encountering  them.  Under  this  cr)'StalUne  light,  full  of 
gaieties,  sentiment,  languor,  seductiveness,  and  ready- 
made  romance,  the  memory  of  a  solitary  unimportant 
man  in  the  lugubrious  North  might  have  faded  from  her 
mind.  He  was  only  her  hired  designer.  He  was  an 
artist ;  but  he  had  been  engaged  by  her,  and  was  not  a 
volunteer ;  and  she  did  not  as  yet  know  that  he  meant 
to  accept  no  return  for  his  labours  ])ut  the  pleasure  of 
presenting  them  to  her  as  a  love-offering. 

So  off  he  went  at  once  towards  the  imposing  building 
whither  his  letters  had  preceded  him.  Owing  to  a  press 
of  visitors  there  was  a  moment's  delay  before  he  could 
be  attended  to  at  the  bureau,  and  he  turned  to  the  large 
staircase  that  confronted  him^  momentarily  hoping  that 
her  figure  might  descend.  Her  skirts  must  indeed  have 
brushed  the  carpeting  of  those  steps  scores  of  times. 
He  engaged  his  room,  ordered  his  luggage  to  be  sent 
for,  and  finally  inquired  for  the  party  he  sought. 

'  They  left  Nice  yesterday,  monsieur,'  replied  madame. 

Was  she  quite  sure,  Somerset  asked  her  ? 

Yes,  she  was  quite  sure.  Two  of  the  hotel  carriages 
had  driven  them  to  the  station. 

Did  she  know  where  they  had  gone  to  ? 

This  and  other  inquiries  resulted  in  the  information 
that  they  had  gone  to  the  hotel  at  Monte  Carlo  ;  that 
how  long  they  were  going  to  stay  there,  and  whether 
they  were  coming  back  again,  was  not  known.  His 
final  question  whether  Miss  Power  had  received  a  letter 
from  England  which  must  have  arrived  the  day  previous 
was  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

Somerset's  first  and  sudden  resolve  was  to  follow  on 
after  them  to  the  hotel  named ;  but  he  finally  decided 
to  make  his  immediate  visit  to  Monte  Carlo  only  a 
cautious  reconnoitre,  returning  to  Nice  to  sleep. 

Accordingly,  after  an  early  dinner,  he  again  set  forth 
through  the  broad  Avenue  de  la  Gare,  and  an  hour  on 
the   coast    railway    brought    him    to   the   beautiful    and 

321  X 


A   LAODICEAN 

sinister  little  spot  to  which  the  Power  and  De  Stancy 
party  had  strayed  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the 
frivolous  throng. 

He  assumed  that  their  visit  thither  would  be  chiefly 
one  of  curiosity,  and  therefore  not  prolonged.  This 
proved  to  be  the  case  in  even  greater  measure  than  he 
had  anticipated.  On  inquiry  at  the  hotel  he  learnt  that 
they  had  stayed  only  one  night,  leaving  a  short  time 
before  his  arrival,  though  it  was  believed  that  some  of 
the  party  were  still  in  the  town. 

In  a  state  of  indecision  Somerset  strolled  into  the 
gardens  of  the  Casino,  and  looked  out  upon  the  sea. 
There  it  still  lay,  calm  yet  lively  ;  of  an  unmixed  blue, 
yet  variegated  ;  hushed,  but  articulate  even  to  melodious- 
ness. ,  Everything  about  and  around  this  coast  appeared 
indeed  jaunty,  tuneful,  and  at  ease,  reciprocating  with 
heartiness  the  rays  of  the  splendid  sun ;  everything, 
except  himself.  The  palms  and  flowers  on  the  terraces 
before  him  were  undisturbed  by  a  single  cold  breath. 
The  marble  work  of  parapets  and  steps  was  unsplintered 
by  frosts.  The  whole  was  like  a  conservatory  with  the 
sky  for  its  dome. 

For  want  of  other  occupation  he  went  round  towards 
the  public  entrance  to  the  Casino,  and  ascended  the 
great  staircase  into  the  pillared  hall.  It  was  possible, 
after  all,  that  upon  leaving  the  hotel  and  sending  on 
their  luggage  they  had  taken  another  turn  through  the 
rooms,  to  follow  by  a  later  train.  With  more  than 
curiosity  he  scanned  first  the  reading-rooms,  only  how- 
ever to  see  not  a  face  that  he  knew.  He  then  crossed 
the  vestibule  to  the  gaming-tables. 


SOMERSET,    DARE,   AND    DE   STANCY 


IV 

liERE  he  was  confronted  by  a  heated  phantasmagoria 
of  tainted  splendour  and  a  high  pressure  of  suspense 
that  seemed  to  make  the  air  quiver.  A  low  whisper 
of  conversation  prevailed,  which  might  probably  have 
been  not  wrongly  defined  as  the  lowest  note  of  social 
harmony. 

The  people  gathered  at  this  negative  pole  of  industry 
had  come  from  all  civilized  countries ;  their  tongues 
were  familiar  with  many  forms  of  utterance,  that  of  each 
racial  group  or  type  being  unintelligible  in  its  subtler 
variations,  if  not  entirely,  to  the  rest.  But  the  language 
of  meum  and  iuum  they  collectively  comprehended  with- 
out translation.  In  a  half-charmed  spell-bound  state 
they  had  congregated  in  knots,  standing,  or  sitting  in 
hollow  circles  round  the  notorious  oval  tables  marked 
with  figures  and  lines.  The  eyes  of  all  these  sets  of 
people  were  watching  the  Roulette.  Somerset  went 
from  table  to  table,  looking  among  the  loungers  rather 
than  among  the  regular  players,  for  faces,  or  at  least  for 
one  face,  which  did  not  meet  his  gaze. 

The  suggestive  charm  which  the  centuries-old  imper- 
sonality Gaming,  rather  than  games  and  gamesters,  had 
for  Somerset,  led  him  to  loiter  on  even  when  his  hope 
of  meeting  any  of  the  Power  and  De  Stancy  party  had 
vanished.     As  a  non-participant  in  its  profits  and  losses, 

323 


A   LAODICEAN 

fevers  and  frenzies,  it  had  that  stage  effect  upon  his 
imagination  which  is  usually  exercised  over  those  who 
behold  Chance  presented  to  them  with  spectacular 
piquancy  without  advancing  far  enough  in  its  acquaint- 
ance to  suffer  from  its  ghastly  reprisals  and  impish 
tricks.  He  beheld  a  hundred  diametrically  opposed 
wishes  issuing  from  the  murky  intelligences  around  a 
table,  and  spreading  down  across  each  other  upon  the 
figured  diagram  in  their  midst,  each  to  its  own  number. 
It  was  a  network  of  hopes ;  which  at  the  announcement, 
'  Sept,  Rouge,  Impair,  ct  Manque,'  disappeared  like 
magic  gossamer,  to  be  replaced  in  a  moment  by  new. 
That  all  the  people  there,  including  himself,  could  be 
interested  in  what  to  the  eye  of  perfect  reason  was  a 
somewhat  monotonous  thing — the  property  of  numbers 
to  recur  at  certain  longer  or  shorter  intervals  in  a 
machine  containing  them — in  other  words,  the  blind 
groping  after  fractions  of  a  result  the  whole  of  which 
was  well  known — was  one  testimony  among  many  of  the 
powerlessness  of  logic  when  confronted  with  imagination. 

At  this  juncture  our  lounger  discerned  at  one  of  the 
tables  about  the  last  person  in  the  world  he  could  have 
wished  to  encounter  there.  It  was  Dare,  whom  he  had 
supposed  to  be  a  thousand  miles  off,  hanging  about  the 
purlieus  of  Markton. 

Dare  was  seated  beside  a  table  in  an  attitude  of 
application  which  seemed  to  imply  that  he  had  come 
early  and  engaged  in  this  pursuit  in  a  systematic  manner, 
Somerset  had  never  witnessed  Dare  and  De  Stancy  to- 
gether, neither  had  he  heard  of  any  engagement  of  Dare 
by  the  travelling  party  as  artist,  courier,  or  otherwise ; 
and  yet  it  crossed  his  mind  that  Dare  might  have  had 
something  to  do  with  them,  or  at  least  have  seen  them. 
This  possibility  was  enough  to  overmaster  Somerset's 
reluctance  to  speak  to  the  young  man,  and  he  did  so  as 
soon  as  an  opportunity  occurred. 

Dare's  face  was  as  rigid  and   dry  as  if  it  had  been 

324 


SOMERSET,    DARE,   AND    DE   STANCY 

encrusted  with  plaster,  and  he  was  Hke  one  turned  into 
a  computing  machine  which  no  longer  had  the  power  of 
feeling.  He  recognized  Somerset  as  indifferently  as  if 
he  had  met  him  in  the  ward  of  Stancy  Castle,  and  re- 
plying to  his  remarks  by  a  word  or  two,  concentrated  on 
the  game  anew. 

'  Are  you  here  alone  ?  '  said  Somerset  presently. 

'  Quite  alone.'  There  was  a  silence,  till  Dare  added, 
'  But  I  have  seen  some  friends  of  yours.'  He  again  be- 
came absorbed  in  the  events  of  the  table.  Somerset 
retreated  a  few  steps,  and  pondered  the  question  whether 
Dare  could  know  where  they  had  gone.  He  disliked  to 
be  beholden  to  Dare  for  information,  but  he  would  give 
a  great  deal  to  know.  VVhile  pausing  he  watched  Dare's 
play.  He  staked  only  five-franc  pieces,  but  it  was  done 
with  an  assiduity  worthy  of  larger  coin.  At  every  half- 
minute  or  so  he  placed  his  money  on  a  certain  spot,  and 
as  regularly  had  the  mortification  of  seeing  it  swept  away 
by  the  croupier's  rake.  After  a  while  he  varied  his  pro- 
cedure. He  risked  his  money,  which  from  the  look  of 
his  face  seemed  rather  to  have  dwindled  than  increased, 
less  recklessly  against  long  odds  than  before.  Leaving 
off  backing  numbers  at  plein,  he  laid  his  venture  a 
cheval;  then  tried  it  upon  the  dozens ;  then  upon  two 
numbers ;  then  upon  a  square ;  and,  apparently  getting 
nearer  and  nearer  defeat,  at  last  upon  the  simple  chances 
of  even  or  odd,  over  or  under,  red  or  black.  Yet  with 
a  few  fluctuations  in  his  favour  fortune  bore  steadily 
against  him,  till  he  could  breast  her  blows  no  longer. 
He  rose  from  the  table  and  came  towards  Somerset,  and 
they  both  moved  on  together  into  the  entrance-hall. 

Dare  was  at  that  moment  the  victim  of  an  over- 
powering mania  for  more  money.  His  presence  in  the 
South  of  Europe  had  its  origin,  as  may  be  guessed, 
in  Captain  De  Stancy's  journey  in  the  same  direction, 
whom  he  had  followed,  and  troubled  with  persistent 
request  for  more  funds,  carefully  keeping  out  of  sight  of 

325 


A   LAODICEAN 

Paula  and  the  rest.  His  dream  of  involving  Paula  in 
the  De  Stancy  pedigree  knew  no  abatement.  But 
Somerset  had  lighted  upon  him  at  an  instant  when 
that  idea,  though  not  displaced,  was  overwhelmed  by  a 
rage  for  play.  In  hope  of  being  able  to  continue  it  by 
Somerset's  aid  he  was  prepared  to  do  almost  anything 
to  please  the  architect. 

'  You  asked  me,'  said  Dare,  stroking  his  impassive 
brow,  '  if  I  had  seen  anything  of  the  Powers.  I  have 
seen  them ;  and  if  I  can  be  of  any  use  to  you  in  giving 
information  about  them  I  shall  only  be  too  glad.' 

'  What  information  can  you  give  ?  ' 

'  I  can  tell  you  where  they  are  gone  to.' 

'  Where  ? ' 

'  To  the  Grand  Hotel,  Genoa.  They  went  on  there 
this  afternoon.' 

'  Whom  do  you  refer  to  by  they  ? ' 

'  Mrs.  Goodman,  Mr.  Power,  Miss  Power,  Miss  De 
Stancy,  and  the  worthy  captain.  He  leaves  them  to- 
morrow :  he  comes  back  here  for  a  day  on  his  way  to 
England.' 

Somerset  was  silent.  Dare  continued  :  '  Now  I  have 
done  you  a  favour,  will  you  do  me  one  in  return  ?  ' 

Somerset  looked  towards  the  gaming-rooms,  and 
said  dubiously,  '  Well  ?  ' 

'  Lend  me  two  hundred  francs.' 

'  Yes,'  said  Somerset ;  '  but  on  one  condition  :  that 
I  don't  give  them  to  you  till  you  are  inside  the  hotel 
you  are  staying  at.' 

'  That  can't  be ;  it's  at  Nice.' 

'Well  I  am  going  back  to  Nice,  and  I'll  lend  you 
the  money  the  instant  we  get  there.' 

'  But  I  want  it  here,  now,  instantly ! '  cried  Dare ; 
and  for  the  first  time  there  was  a  wiry  unreasonableness 
in  his  voice  that  fortified  his  companion  more  firmly 
than  ever  in  his  determination  to  lend  the  young  man 
no  money  whilst  he  remained  inside  that  building. 

326 


SOMERSET,    DARE,   AND    DE   STANCY 

'  You  want  it  to  throw  it  away.  I  don't  approve  of 
it ;  so  come  with  me.' 

'  But,'  said  Dare,  '  I  arrived  here  with  a  hundred 
napoleons  and  more,  expressly  to  work  out  my  theory 
of  chances  and  recurrences,  which  is  sound ;  I  have 
studied  it  hundreds  of  times  by  the  help  of  this.'  He 
partially  drew  from  his  pocket  the  little  volume  that  we 
have  before  seen  in  his  hands.  '  If  I  only  persevere  in 
my  system,  the  certainty  that  I  must  win  is  almost 
mathematical.  I  have  staked  and  lost  two  hundred 
and  thirty-three  times.  Allowing  out  of  that  one  chance 
in  every  thirty-six,  which  is  the  average  of  zero  being 
marked,  and  two  hundred  and  four  times  for  the  backers 
of  the  other  numbers,  I  have  the  mathematical  expecta- 
tion of  six  times  at  least,  which  would  nearly  recoup  me. 
And  shall  I,  then,  sacrifice  that  vast  foundation  of  waste 
chances  that  I  have  laid  down,  and  paid  for,  merely  for 
want  of  a  little  ready  money  ?  ' 

'  You  might  persevere  for  a  twelvemonth,  and  still 
not  get  the  better  of  your  reverses.  Time  tells  in 
favour  of  the  bank.  Just  imagine  for  the  sake  of  argu- 
ment that  all  the  people  who  have  ever  placed  a  stake 
upon  a  certain  number  to  be  one  person  playing  con- 
tinuously. Has  that  imaginary  person  won  ?  The 
existence  of  the  Ijank  is  a  sufficient  answer.' 

'  But  a  particular  player  has  the  option  of  leaving  off 
at  any  point  favourable  to  himself,  which  the  bank  has 
not ;  and  there's  my  opportunity.' 

'  Which  from  your  mood  you  will  be  sure  not  to 
take  advantage  of.' 

'  I  shall  go  on  playing,'  said  Dare  doggedly. 

'  Not  with  my  money.' 

'  Very  well ;  we  won't  part  as  enemies,'  replied  Dare, 
with  the  flawless  politeness  of  a  man  whose  speech  has 
no  longer  any  kinship  with  his  feelings.  '  Shall  we 
share  a  bottle  of  wine  ?  You  will  not  ?  Well,  I  hope 
your  luck  with  your  lady  will  be  more  magnificent  than 

327 


A   LAODICEAN 

mine  has  been  here ;  but — mind  Captain  De  Stancy ! 
he's  a  fearful  wildfowl  for  you.' 

'  He's  a  harmless,  inoffensive  soldier,  as  far  as  I 
know.     If  he  is  not — let  him  be  what  he  may  for  me.' 

'  And  do  his  worst  to  cut  you  out,  I  suppose  ? ' 

*Ay — if  you  will.'  Somerset,  much  against  his 
judgment,  w^as  being  stimulated  by  these  pricks  into 
words  of  irritation.  '  Captain  De  Stancy  might,  I  think, 
be  better  employed  than  in  dangling  at  the  heels  of  a 
lady  who  can  well  dispense  with  his  company.  And 
you  might  be  better  employed  than  in  wasting  your 
wages  here.' 

'  Wages — a  fit  word  for  my  money.  May  I  ask  you 
at  what  stage  in  the  appearance  of  a  man  whose  way  of 
existence  is  unknown,  his  money  ceases  to  be  called 
wages  and  begins  to  be  called  means  ?  ' 

Somerset  turned  and  left  him  without  replying,  Dare 
following  his  receding  figure  with  a  look  of  ripe  resent- 
ment, not  less  likely  to  vent  itself  in  mischief  from  the 
want  of  moral  ballast  in  him  who  emitted  it.  He  then 
fixed  a  nettled  and  unsatisfied  gaze  upon  the  gaming- 
rooms,  and  in  another  minute  or  two  left  the  Casino 
also. 

Dare  and  Somerset  met  no  more  that  day.  The 
latter  returned  to  Nice  by  the  evening  train  and  went 
straight  to  the  hotel.  He  now  thanked  his  fortune  that 
he  had  not  precipitately  given  up  his  room  there,  for  a 
telegram  from  Paula  awaited  him.  His  hand  almost 
trembled  as  he  opened  it,  to  read  the  following  few  short 
words,  dated  from  the  Grand  Hotel,  Genoa  : — 

'  Letter  received.  Am  glad  to  hear  of  your  journey.  We  are 
not  returning  to  Nice,  but  stay  here  a  week.  I  direct  this  at  a 
venture.' 

This  tantalizing  message — the  first  breaking  of  her 
recent  silence — was  saucy,  almost  cruel,  in  its  dry 
frigidity.     It  led  him  to  give  up  his  idea  of  following 

32S 


SOMERSET,     DARE,   AND   DE   STANCY 

at  once  to  Genoa.  That  was  ^Yhat  she  obviously  ex- 
pected him  to  do,  and  it  was  possible  that  his  non- 
arrival  might  draw  a  letter  or  message  from  her  of  a 
sweeter  composition  than  this.  That  would  at  least  be 
the  effect  of  his  tardiness  if  she  cared  in  the  least  for 
him ;  if  she  did  not  he  could  bear  the  worst.  The 
argument  was  good  enough  as  far  as  it  went,  but,  like 
many  more,  failed  from  the  narrowness  of  its  premises, 
the  contingent  intervention  of  Dare  being  entirely  un- 
dreamt of.  It  was  altogether  a  fatal  miscalculation, 
which  cost  him  dear. 

Passing  by  the  telegraph-office  in  the  Rue  Pont-Neuf 
at  an  early  hour  the  next  morning  he  saw  Dare  coming 
out  from  the  door.  It  was  Somerset's  momentary  im- 
pulse to  thank  Dare  for  the  information  given  as  to 
Paula's  whereabouts,  information  which  had  now  proved 
true.  But  Dare  did  not  seem  to  appreciate  his  friend- 
liness, and  after  a  few  words  of  studied  civility  the  young 
man  moved  on. 

And  well  he  might.  Five  minutes  before  that  time 
he  had  thrown  open  a  gulf  of  treachery  between  himself 
and  the  architect  which  nothing  in  life  could  ever  close. 
Before  leaving  the  telegraph-office  Dare  had  despatched 
the  following  message  to  Paula  direct,  as  a  set-off 
against  what  he  called  Somerset's  ingratitude  for  valu- 
able information,  though  it  was  really  the  fruit  of  many 
passions,  motives,  and  desires  : — 

'  G.  Somerset,  Nice,  to  Miss  Power,  Grand  Hotel,  Genoa. 

'Have  lost  all  at  Monte  Carlo.  Have  learnt  that  Captain  D.  S. 
returns  here  to-morrow.  Please  send  me  one  hundred  pounds  by 
him,  and  save  me  from  disgrace.  Will  await  him  at  eleven  o'clock 
and  four,  on  the  Pont-Neuf.' 


A   LAODICEAN 


V 

r  IVE  hours  after  the  despatch  of  that  telegram  Captain 
De  Stancy  was  ratthng  along  the  coast  railway  of  the 
Riviera  from  Genoa  to  Nice.  He  was  returning  to 
England  by  way  of  Marseilles  ;  but  before  turning  north- 
wards he  had  engaged  to  perform  on  Miss  Power's 
account  a  peculiar  and  somewhat  disagreeable  duty. 
This  was  to  place  in  Somerset's  hands  a  hundred  and 
twenty-five  napoleons  which  had  been  demanded  from 
her  by  a  message  in  Somerset's  name.  The  money  was 
in  his  pocket — all  in  gold,  in  a  canvas  bag,  tied  up  by 
Paula's  own  hands,  which  he  had  observed  to  tremble 
as  she  tied  it. 

As  he  leaned  in  the  corner  of  the  carriage  he  was 
thinking  over  the  events  of  the  morning  which  had 
culminated  in  that  liberal  response.  At  ten  o'clock, 
before  he  had  gone  out  from  the  hotel  where  he  had 
taken  up  his  quarters,  which  was  not  the  same  as  the 
one  patronized  by  Paula  and  her  friends,  he  had  been 
summoned  to  her  presence  in  a  manner  so  unexpected 
as  to  imply  that  something  serious  was  in  question. 
On  entering  her  room  he  had  been  struck  by  the 
absence  of  that  saucy  independence  usually  apparent 
in  her  bearing  towards  him,  notwithstanding  the  per- 
sistency with  which  he  had  hovered  near  her  for  the 
previous    month,  and  gradually,  by  the  position  of  his 

33° 


SOMERSET,    DARE,   AND   DE   STANCY 

sister,  and  the  favour  of  Paula's  uncle  in  intercepting 
one  of  Somerset's  letters  and  several  of  his  telegrams, 
established  himself  as  an  intimate  member  of  the 
travelling  party.  His  entry,  however,  this  time  as 
always,  had  had  the  effect  of  a  tonic,  and  it  was  quite 
with  her  customary  self-possession  that  she  had  told 
him  of  the  object  of  her  message. 

'  You  think  of  returning  to  Nice  this  afternoon  ? ' 
she  inquired. 

De  Stancy  informed  her  that  such  was  his  intention, 
and  asked  if  he  could  do  anything  for  her  there. 

Then,  he  remembered,  she  had  hesitated.  '  I  have 
received  a  telegram,'  she  said  at  length ;  and  so  she 
allowed  to  escape  her  bit  by  bit  the  information  that 
her  architect,  whose  name  she  seemed  reluctant  to  utter, 
had  travelled  from  England  to  Nice  that  week,  partly 
to  consult  her,  partly  for  a  holiday  trip ;  that  he  had 
gone  on  to  Monte  Carlo,  had  there  lost  his  money  and 
got  into  difficulties,  and  had  appealed  to  her  to  help 
him  out  of  them  by  the  immediate  advance  of  some 
ready  cash.  It  was  a  sad  case,  an  unexpected  case, 
she  murmured,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  window. 
Indeed  she  could  not  comprehend  it. 

To  De  Stancy  there  appeared  nothing  so  very  extra- 
ordinary in  Somerset's  apparent  fiasco,  except  in  so  far 
as  that  he  should  have  applied  to  Paula  for  relief  from 
his  distresses  instead  of  elsewhere.  It  was  a  self-humilia- 
tion which  a  lover  would  have  avoided  at  all  costs,  he 
thought.  Yet  after  a  momentary  reflection  on  his 
theory  of  Somerset's  character,  it  seemed  sufficiently 
natural  that  he  should  lean  persistently  on  Paula,  if 
only  with  a  view  of  keeping  himself  linked  to  her 
memory,  without  thinking  too  profoundly  of  his  own 
dignity.  That  the  esteem  in  which  she  had  held 
Somerset  up  to  that  hour  suffered  a  tremendous  blow 
by  his  apparent  scrape  was  clearly  visible  in  her, 
reticent   as    she  was ;    and    De  Stancy,   while    pitying 


A   LAODICEAN 

Somerset,  thanked  him  in  his  mind  for  having  gratui- 
tously given  a  rival  an  advantage  which  that  rival's 
attentions  had  never  been  able  to  gain  of  themselves. 

After  a  little  further  conversation  she  had  said : 
'  Since  you  are  to  be  my  messenger,  I  must  tell  you  that 
I  have  decided  to  send  the  hundred  pounds  asked  for, 
and  you  will  please  to  deliver  them  into  no  hands  but 
his  own.'  A  curious  little  blush  crept  over  her  sobered 
face — perhaps  it  was  a  blush  of  shame  at  the  conduct  of 
the  young  man  in  whom  she  had  of  late  been  suspici- 
ously interested — as  she  added,  '  He  will  be  on  the 
Pont-Neuf  at  four  this  afternoon  and  again  at  eleven  to- 
morrow.     Can  you  meet  him  there?' 

'  Certainly,'  De  Stancy  replied. 

She  then  asked  him,  rather  anxiously,  how  he  could 
account  for  Mr.  Somerset  knowing  that  he.  Captain  De 
Stancy,  was  about  to  return  to  Nice? 

De  Stancy  informed  her  that  he  left  word  at  the 
hotel  of  his  intention  to  return,  which  was  quite  true ; 
moreover,  there  did  not  lurk  in  his  mind  at  the  moment 
of  speaking  the  faintest  suspicion  that  Somerset  had 
seen  Dare. 

She  then  tied  the  bag  and  handed  it  to  him,  leaving 
him  with  a  serene  and  impenetrable  bearing,  which  he 
hoped  for  his  own  sake  meant  an  acquired  indifference 
to  Somerset  and  his  fortunes.  Her  sending  the  archi- 
tect a  sum  of  money  which  she  could  easily  spare  might 
be  set  down  to  natural  generosity  towards  a  man  with 
whom  she  was  artistically  co-operating  for  the  improve- 
ment of  her  home. 

She  came  back  to  him  again  for  a  moment.  '  Could 
you  possibly  get  there  before  four  this  afternoon  ? '  she 
asked,  and  he  informed  her  that  he  could  just  do  so  by 
leaving  almost  at  once,  which  he  was  very  willing  to  do, 
though  by  so  forestalling  his  time  he  would  lose  the  pro- 
jected morning  with  her  and  the  rest  at  the  Palazzo 
Doria. 

332 


SOMERSET,    DARE,    AND    DE   STANCY 

'  I  may  tell  you  that  I  shall  not  go  to  the  Palazzo 
Doria  either,  if  it  is  any  consolation  to  you  to  know  it,' 
was  her  reply.  '  I  shall  sit  indoors  and  think  of  you  on 
your  journey.' 

The  answer  admitted  of  two  translations,  and  con- 
jectures thereon  filled  the  gallant  soldier's  mind  during 
the  greater  part  of  the  journey.  He  arrived  at  the  hotel 
they  had  all  stayed  at  in  succession  about  six  hours  after 
Somerset  had  left  it  for  a  little  excursion  to  San  Remo 
and  its  neighbourhood,  as  a  means  of  passing  a  few 
days  till  Paula  should  write  again  to  inquire  why  ho 
had  not  come  on.  De  Stancy  saw  no  one  he  knew,  and 
in  obedience  to  Paula's  commands  he  promptly  set  off 
on  foot  for  the  Pont-Neuf. 

Though  opposed  to  the  architect  as  a  lover,  De  Stancy 
felt  for  him  as  a  poor  devil  in  need  of  money,  having 
had  experiences  of  that  sort  himself,  and  he  was  really 
anxious  that  the  needful  supply  entrusted  to  him  should 
reach  Somerset's  hands.  He  was  on  the  bridge  five 
minutes  before  the  hour,  and  when  the  clock  struck  a 
hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder :  turning  he  beheld  Dare. 

Knowing  that  the  youth  was  loitering  somewhere  along 
the  coast,  for  they  had  frequently  met  together  on  De 
Stancy's  previous  visit,  the  latter  merely  said,  '  Don't 
bother  me  for  the  present,  Willy,  I  have  an  engagement. 
You  can  see  me  at  the  hotel  this  evening.' 

'  When  you  have  given  me  the  hundred  pounds  I  will 
fly  like  a  rocket,  captain,'  said  the  young  gentleman. 
'  I  keep  the  appointment  instead  of  the  other  man.' 

De  Stancy  looked  hard  at  him.  '  How — do  you 
know  about  this  ?  '  he  asked  breathlessly. 

'  I  have  seen  him.' 

De  Stancy  took  the  young  man  by  the  two  shoulders 
and  gazed  into  his  eyes.  The  scrutiny  seemed  not  alto- 
gether to  remove  the  suspicion  which  had  suddenly 
started  up  in  his  mind.  '  My  soul,'  he  said,  dropping 
his  arms,  '  can  this  be  true  ?  ' 

333 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  ^Vhat  ?  ' 

'  You  know.' 

Dare  shrugged  his  shoulders ;  '  Are  you  going  to 
hand  over  the  money  or  no  ? '  he  said. 

'  I  am  going  to  make  inquiries,'  said  De  Stancy, 
walking  away  with  a  vehement  tread. 

'  Captain,  you  are  without  natural  affection,'  said 
Dare,  walking  by  his  side,  in  a  tone  which  showed  his 
fear  that  he  had  over-estimated  that  emotion.  '  See 
what  I  have  done  for  you.  You  have  been  my  constant 
care  and  anxiety  for  I  can't  tell  how  long.  I  have 
stayed  awake  at  night  thinking  how  I  might  best  give 
you  a  good  start  in  the  world  by  arranging  this  judicious 
marriage,  when  you  have  been  sleeping  as  sound  as  a 
top  with  no  cares  upon  your  mind  at  all,  and  now  I 
have  got  into  a  scrape — as  the  most  thoughtful  of  us 
may  sometimes — you  go  to  make  inquiries.' 

'  I  have  promised  the  lady  to  whom  this  money 
belongs — whose  generosity  has  been  shamefully  abused 
in  some  way — that  I  will  deliver  it  into  no  hands  but 
those  of  one  man,  and  he  has  not  yet  appeared.  I 
therefore  go  to  find  him.' 

Dare  laid  his  hand  upon  De  Stancy's  arm.  '  Captain, 
we  are  both  warm,  and  punctilious  on  points  of  honour ; 
this  will  come  to  a  split  between  us  if  we  don't  mind. 
So,  not  to  bring  matters  to  a  crisis,  lend  me  ten  pounds 
here  to  enable  me  to  get  home,  and  I'll  disappear.' 

In  a  state  bordering  on  distraction,  eager  to  get  the 
young  man  out  of  his  sight  before  worse  revelations 
should  rise  up  between  them,  De  Stancy  without 
pausing  in  his  walk  gave  him  the  sum  demanded.  He 
soon  reached  the  post-office,  where  he  inquired  if  a  Mr. 
Somerset  had  left  any  directions  for  forwarding  letters. 

It  was  just  what  Somerset  had  done.  De  Stancy 
was  told  that  Mr.  Somerset  had  commanded  that  any 
letters  should  be  sent  on  to  him  at  the  Hdtel  Victoria, 
San  Remo. 

334 


SOMERSET,    DARE,   AND    DE   STANCY 

It  was  now  evident  that  the  scheme  of  getting  money 
from  Paula  was  either  of  Dare's  invention,  or  that 
Somerset,  ashamed  of  his  first  impulse,  had  abandoned 
it  as  speedily  as  it  had  been  formed.  De  Stancy  turned 
and  went  out.  Dare,  in  keeping  with  his  promise,  had 
vanished.  Captain  De  Stancy  resolved  to  do  nothing 
in  the  case  till  further  events  should  enlighten  him, 
beyond  sending  a  line  to  Miss  Power  to  inform  her 
that  Somerset  had  not  appeared,  and  that  he  thoroforc 
retained  the  money  for  further  instructions. 


BOOK  THE  FIFTH 


DE  STANCY  AND  PAULA 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 


BOOK  THE  FIFTH 
DE  STANCY  AND  PAULA 


JVliSS  POWER  was  reclining  on  a  red  velvet  couch 
in  the  bedroom  of  an  old-fashioned  red  hotel  at  Strass- 
burg,  and  her  friend  INIiss  De  Stancy  was  sitting  by  a 
window  of  the  same  apartment.  They  were  both  rather 
wearied  by  a  long  journey  of  the  previous  day.  The 
hotel  overlooked  the  large  open  Kleber  Platz,  erect  in 
the  midst  of  which  the  bronze  statue  of  General  Kleber 
received  the  rays  of  a  warm  sun  that  was  powerless  to 
brighten  him.  The  whole  square,  with  its  people  and 
vehicles  going  to  and  fro  as  if  they  had  plenty  of  time, 
was  visible  to  Charlotte  in  her  chair ;  but  Paula  from 
her  horizontal  position  could  see  nothing  below  the  level 
of  the  many  dormered  house-tops  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  Platz.  After  watching  this  upper  storey  of  the 
city  for  some  time  in  silence,  she  asked  Charlotte  to 
hand  her  a  binocular  lying  on  the  table,  through  which 
instrument  she  quietly  regarded  the  distant  roofs. 

'What  strange  and  philosophical  creatures  storks 
are,'  she  said.  '  They  give  a  taciturn,  ghostly  character 
to  the  whole  town.' 

The  birds  were  crossing  and  recrossing  the  field  of 
the   glass    in    their   flight    hither   and    thither   between 

oj9 


A   LAODICEAN 

the  Strassburg  chimneys,  their  sad  grey  forms  sharply 
outUned  against  the  sky,  and  their  skinny  legs  showing 
beneath  like  the  limbs  of  dead  martyrs  in  Crivelli's 
emaciated  imaginings.  The  indifference  of  these  birds 
to  all  that  was  going  on  beneath  them  impressed  her  :  to 
harmonize  with  their  solemn  and  silent  movements  the 
houses  beneath  should  have  been  deserted,  and  grass 
growing  in  the  streets. 

Behind  the  long  roofs  thus  visible  to  Paula  over  the 
window-sill,  with  their  tiers  of  dormer-windows,  rose  the 
cathedral  spire  in  airy  openwork,  forming  the  highest 
object  in  the  scene ;  it  suggested  something  which  for  a 
long  time  she  appeared  unwilling  to  utter ;  but  natural 
instinct  had  its  way. 

'  A  place  like  this,'  she  said,  '  where  he  can  study 
Gothic  architecture,  would,  I  should  have  thought,  be  a 
spot  more  congenial  to  him  than  Monaco.' 

The  person  referred  to  was  the  misrepresented 
Somerset,  whom  the  two  had  been  gingerly  discussing 
from  time  to  time,  allowing  any  casual  subject,  such  as 
that  of  the  storks,  to  interrupt  the  personal  one  at  every 
two  or  three  sentences. 

'  It  would  be  more  like  him  to  be  here,'  replied  Miss 
De  Stancy,  trusting  her  tongue  with  only  the  barest 
generalities  on  this  m.itter. 

Somerset  was  again  dismissed  for  the  stork  topic, 
but  Paula  could  not  let  him  alone ;  and  she  presently 
resumed,  as  if  an  irresistible  fascination  compelled  what 
judgment  had  forbidden:  'The  strongest-minded  per- 
sons are  sometimes  caught  unawares  at  that  place,  if 
they  once  think  they  will  retrieve  their  first  losses  ;  and 
I  am  not  aware  that  he  is  particularly  strong-minded.' 

For  a  moment  Charlotte  looked  at  her  with  a  mixed 
expression,  in  which  there  was  deprecation  that  a  woman 
with  any  feeling  should  criticize  Somerset  so  frigidly, 
and  relief  that  it  was  Paula  who  did  so.  For,  notwith- 
standing her  assumption  that  Somerset  could  never  be 

340 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

anything  more  to  her  than  he  was  already,  Charlotte's 
heart  would  occasionally  step  down  and  trouble  her 
views  so  expressed. 

Whether  looking  through  a  glass  at  distant  objects 
enabled  Paula  to  bottle  up  her  affection  for  the  absent 
one,  or  whether  her  friend  Charlotte  had  so  little  per- 
sonality in  Paula's  regard  that  she  could  commune  with 
her  as  with  a  lay  figure,  it  was  certain  that  she  evinced 
remarkable  ease  in  speaking  of  Somerset,  resuming  her 
words  about  him  in  the  tone  of  one  to  whom  he  was  at 
most  an  ordinary  professional  adviser.  '  It  would  be 
very  awkward  for  the  works  at  the  castle  if  he  has  got 
into  a  scrape.  I  suppose  the  builders  were  well  posted 
up  with  instructions  before  he  left :  but  he  ought  cer- 
tainly to  return  soon.  Why  did  he  leave  England  at 
all  just  now  ?  ' 

'  Perhaps  it  was  to  see  you.' 

'  He  should  have  waited ;  it  would  not  have  been  so 
dreadfully  long  to  May  or  June.  Charlotte,  how  can  a 
man  who  does  such  a  hare-brained  thing  as  this  be 
deemed  trustworthy  in  an  important  work  like  that  of 
rebuilding  Stancy  Castle  ?  ' 

There  was  such  stress  in  the  inquiry  that,  whatever 
factitiousness  had  gone  before,  Charlotte  perceived  Paula 
to  be  at  last  speaking  her  mind ;  and  it  seemed  as  if 
Somerset  must  have  considerably  lost  ground  in  her 
opinion,  or  she  would  not  have  criticized  him  thus. 

'  My  brother  will  tell  us  full  particulars  when  he 
comes  :  perhaps  it  is  not  at  all  as  we  suppose,'  said 
Charlotte.  She  strained  her  eyes  across  the  Platz  and 
added,  '  He  ought  to  have  been  here  before  this  time.' 

While  they  waited  and  talked,  Paula  still  observing 
the  storks,  the  hotel  omnibus  came  round  the  corner 
from  the  station.  '  I  believe  he  has  arrived,'  resumed 
Miss  De  Stancy ;  '  I  see  something  that  looks  like  his 
portmanteau  on  the  top  of  the  omnibus.  .  .  .  Yes ;  it 
is  his  baggage.     I'll  run  down  to  him.' 

341 


A   LAODICEAN 

De  Stancy  had  obtained  six  weeks'  additional  leave 
on  account  of  his  health,  which  had  somewhat  suffered 
in  India.  The  first  use  he  made  of  his  extra  time  was 
in  hastening  back  to  meet  the  travelling  ladies  here  at 
Strassburg.  Mr.  Power  and  Mrs.  Goodman  were  also 
at  the  hotel,  and  when  Charlotte  got  downstairs,  the 
former  was  welcoming  De  Stancy  at  the  door. 

Paula  had  not  seen  him  since  he  set  out  from  Genoa 
for  Nice,  commissioned  by  her  to  deliver  the  hundred 
pounds  to  Somerset.  His  note,  stating  that  he  had 
failed  to  meet  Somerset,  contained  no  details,  and  she 
guessed  that  he  would  soon  appear  before  her  now  to 
answer  any  question  about  that  peculiar  errand. 

Her  anticipations  were  justified  by  the  event;  she 
had  no  sooner  gone  into  the  next  sitting-room  than 
Charlotte  De  Stancy  appeared  and  asked  if  her  brother 
might  come  up.  The  closest  observer  would  have  been 
in  doubt  whether  Paula's  ready  reply  in  the  affirmative 
was  prompted  by  personal  consideration  for  De  Stancy, 
or  by  a  hope  to  hear  more  of  his  mission  to  Nice.  As 
soon  as  she  had  welcomed  him  she  reverted  at  once  to 
the  subject. 

'  Yes,  as  I  told  you,  he  was  not  at  the  place  of  meet- 
ing,' De  Stancy  replied.  And  taking  from  his  pocket 
the  bag  of  ready  money  he  placed  it  intact  upon  the 
table. 

De  Stancy  did  this  with  a  hand  that  shook  somewhat 
more  than  a  long  railway  journey  was  adequate  to 
account  for;  and  in  truth  it  was  the  vision  of  Dare's 
position  which  agitated  the  unhappy  captain  :  for  had 
that  young  man,  as  De  Stancy  feared,  been  tampering 
with  Somerset's  name,  his  fate  now  trembled  in  the 
balance ;  Paula  would  unquestionably  and  naturally 
invoke  the  aid  of  the  law  against  him  if  she  discovered 
such  an  imposition. 

'Were  you  punctual  to  the  time  mentioned?'  she 
asked  curiously. 

342 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

De  Stancy  replied  in  the  afifirmative. 

'  Did  you  wait  long  ? '  she  continued. 

'  Not  very  long,'  he  answered,  his  instinct  to  screen 
the  possibly  guilty  one  confining  him  to  guarded  state- 
ments, while  still  adhering  to  the  literal  truth. 

'  Why  was  that  ?  ' 

'  Somebody  came  and  told  me  that  he  would  not 
appear.' 

'  Who  ? ' 

'  A  young  man  who  has  been  acting  as  his  clerk. 
His  name  is  Dare.  He  informed  me  that  Mr.  Somerset 
could  not  keep  the  appointment.'  , 

'  Why  ? ' 

'  He  had  gone  on  to  San  Remo.' 

'  Has  he  been  travelling  with  Mr.  Somerset  ?  ' 

'  He  had  been  with  him.  They  know  each  other 
very  well.  But  as  you  commissioned  me  to  deliver  the 
money  into  no  hands  but  Mr.  Somerset's,  I  adhered 
strictly  to  your  instructions.' 

'  But  perhaps  my  instructions  were  not  wise.  Should 
it  in  your  opinion  have  been  sent  by  this  young  man  ? 
Was  he  commissioned  to  ask  you  for  it  ? ' 

De  Stancy  murmured  that  Dare  was  not  commissioned 
to  ask  for  it ;  that  upon  the  whole  he  deemed  her  in- 
structions wise ;  and  was  still  of  opinion  that  the  best 
thing  had  been  done. 

Although  De  Stancy  was  distracted  between  his  de- 
sire to  preserve  Dare  from  the  consequences  of  folly, 
and  a  gentlemanly  wish  to  keep  as  close  to  the  truth 
as  was  compatible  with  that  condition,  his  answers  had 
not  appeared  to  Paula  to  be  particularly  evasive,  the 
conjuncture  being  one  in  which  a  handsome  heiress's 
shrewdness  was  prone  to  overleap  itself  by  setting  down 
embarrassment  on  the  part  of  the  man  she  cjuestionud 
to  a  mere  lover's  difficulty  in  steering  between  honour 
and  rivalry. 

She  put  but  one  other  question.     '  Did  it  appear  as 

343 


A   LAODICEAN 

if  he,  Mr.  Somerset,  after  telegraphing,  had — had — re- 
gretted doing  so,  and  evaded  the  result  by  not  keeping 
the  appointment  ? ' 

'  That's  just  how  it  appears.'  The  words,  which 
saved  Dare  from  ignominy,  cost  De  Stancy  a  good  deal. 
He  was  sorry  for  Somerset,  sorry  for  himself,  and  very 
sorry  for  Paula.  But  Dare  was  to  De  Stancy  what 
Somerset  could  never  be :  and  '  for  his  kin  that  is  near 
unto  him  shall  a  man  be  defiled.' 

After  that  interview  Charlotte  saw  with  warring 
impulses  that  Somerset  slowly  diminished  in  Paula's 
estimate;  slowly  as  the  moon  wanes,  but  as  certainly. 
Charlotte's  own  love  was  of  a  clinging,  uncritical  sort, 
and  though  the  shadowy  intelligence  of  Somerset's 
doings  weighed  down  her  soul  with  regret,  it  seemed 
to  make  not  the  least  difference  in  her  affection  for 
him. 

In  the  afternoon  the  whole  party,  including  De 
Stancy,  drove  about  the  streets.  Here  they  looked  at 
the  house  in  which  Goethe  had  lived,  and  afterwards 
entered  the  cathedral.  Observing  in  the  south  transept 
a  crowd  of  people  waiting  patiently,  they  were  reminded 
that  they  unwittingly  stood  in  the  presence  of  the 
popular  clock-v.'ork  of  Schwilgue. 

Mr.  Power  and  Mrs.  Goodman  decided  that  they 
would  wait  with  the  rest  of  the  idlers  and  see  the  puppets 
perform  at  the  striking.  Charlotte  also  v/aited  with 
them ;  but  as  it  wanted  eight  minutes  to  the  hour,  and 
as  Paula  had  seen  the  show  before,  she  moved  on  into 
the  nave. 

Presently  she  found  that  De  Stancy  had  followed. 
He  did  not  come  close  till  she,  seeing  him  stand  silent, 
said,  '  If  it  v.'ere  not  for  this  cathedral,  I  should  not  like 
the  city  at  all ;  and  I  have  even  seen  cathedrals  I  like 
better.      Luckily  we  are  going  on  to  Baden  to-morrow.' 

'  Your  uncle  has  just  told  me.  He  has  asked  me  to 
keep  you  company.' 

344 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

'  Are  you  intending  to  ? '  said  Paula,  probing  the 
base- moulding  of  a  pier  with  her  parasol. 

'  I  have  nothing  better  to  do,  nor  indeed  half  so 
good,'  said  De  Stancy.  '  I  am  abroad  for  my  health, 
you  know,  and  what's  like  the  Rhine  and  its  neighbour- 
hood in  early  summer,  before  the  crowd  comes  ?  It  is 
delightful  to  wander  about  there,  or  anywhere,  like  a 
child,  influenced  by  no  fixed  motive  more  than  that  of 
keeping  near  some  friend,  or  friends,  including  the  one 
we  most  admire  in  the  world.' 

'  That  sounds  perilously  like  love-making.' 

'  'Tis  love  indeed.' 

'  Well,  love  is  natural  to  men,  I  suppose,'  rejoined 
the  young  lady.  '  But  you  must  love  within  bounds ; 
or  you  will  be  enervated,  and  cease  to  be  useful  as  a 
heavy  arm  of  the  service.' 

'  My  dear  Miss  Power,  your  didactic  and  respectable 
rules  won't  do  for  me.  If  you  expect  straws  to  stop 
currents,  you  are  sadly  mistaken  !  But  no — let  matters 
be :  I  am  a  happy  contented  mortal  at  present,  say  what 
you  will.  .  .  .  You  don't  ask  why  ?  Perhaps  you  know. 
It  is  because  all  I  care  for  in  the  world  is  near  me,  and 
that  I  shall  never  be  more  than  a  hundred  yards  from 
her  as  long  as  the  present  arrangement  continues.' 

'We  are  in  a  cathedral,  remember.  Captain  De 
Stancy,  and  should  not  keep  up  a  secular  conversation.' 

'  If  I  had  never  said  worse  in  a  cathedral  than  what 
i  have  said  here,  I  should  be  content  to  meet  my  eternal 
Judge  without  absolution.  Your  uncle  asked  me  this 
morning  how  I  liked  you.' 

'  Well,  there  was  no  harm  in  that.' 

'  How  I  like  you  !  Harm,  no  ;  but  you  should  have 
seen  how  silly  I  looked.  Fancy  the  inadequacy  of  the 
expression  when  my  whole  sense  is  absorbed  by  you.' 

'  Men  allow  themselves  to  be  made  ridiculous  by 
their  own  feelings  in  an  inconceivable  way.' 

'True,  I  am  a  fool;   but  forgive  me,'   he  rejoined, 

345 


A    LAODICEAN 

observing  her  gaze,  which  wandered  critically  from  roof 
to  clerestory,  and  then  to  the  pillars,  without  once 
lighting  on  him.  '  Don't  mind  saying  Yes.  —  You 
look  at  this  thing  and  that  thing,  but  you  never  look 
at  me,  though  I  stand  here  and  see  nothing  but  you.' 

'  There,  the  clock  is  striking — and  the  cock  crows. 
Please  go  across  to  the  transept  and  tell  them  to  come 
out  this  way.' 

De  Stancy  went.  When  he  had  gone  a  few  steps 
he  turned  his  head.  She  had  at  last  ceased  to  study 
the  architecture,  and  was  looking  at  him.  Perhaps  his 
words  had  struck  her,  for  it  seemed  at  that  moment 
as  if  he  read  in  her  bright  eyes  a  genuine  interest  in 
him  and  his  fortunes. 


DE    STANCY   AND    PAULA 


II 

IN  EXT  day  they  went  on  to  Baden.  De  Stancy  was 
beginning  to  cultivate  the  passion  of  love  even  more 
as  an  escape  from  the  gloomy  relations  of  his  life  than 
as  matrimonial  strategy.  Paula's  juxtaposition  had  the 
attribute  of  making  him  forget  everything  in  his  own 
history.  She  was  a  magic  alterative;  and  the  most 
foolish  boyish  shape  into  which  he  could  throw  his 
feelings  for  her  was  in  this  respect  to  be  aimed  at  as 
the  act  of  highest  wisdom. 

He  supplemented  the  natural  warmth  of  feeling  that 
she  had  wrought  in  him  by  every  artificial  means  in  his 
power,  to  make  the  distraction  the  more  complete.  He 
had  not  known  anything  like  this  self-obscuration  for 
a  dozen  years,  and  when  he  conjectured  that  she  might 
really  learn  to  love  him  he  felt  exalted  in  his  own  eyes 
and  purified  from  the  dross  of  his  former  life.  Such 
uneasiness  of  conscience  as  arose  when  he  suddenly 
remembered  Dare,  and  the  possibility  that  Somerset 
was  getting  ousted  unfairly,  had  its  weight  in  depressing 
him ;  but  he  was  inclined  to  accept  his  fortune  without 
much  question. 

The  journey  to  Baden,  though  short,  was  not  with- 
out incidents  on  which  he  could  work  out  this  curious 
hobby  of  cultivating  to  superlative  power  an  already 
positive    passion.       Handing    her    in    and    out   of  the 

347 


A   LAODICEAN 

carriage,  accidentally  getting  brushed  by  her  clothes  ; 
of  all  such  as  this  he  made  available  fuel.  Paula, 
though  she  might  have  guessed  the  general  nature  of 
what  was  going  on,  seemed  unconscious  of  the  refine- 
ments he  was  trying  to  throw  into  it,  and  sometimes, 
when  in  stepping  into  or  from  a  railway  carriage  she 
unavoidably  put  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  the  obvious 
insignificance  she  attached  to  the  action  struck  him  with 
misgiving. 

One  of  the  first  things  they  did  at  Baden  was  to 
stroll  into  the  Trink-halle,  where  Paula  sipped  the  water. 
She  was  about  to  put  down  the  glass,  when  De  Stancy 
quickly  took  it  from  her  hands  as  though  to  make  use 
of  it  himself. 

'  O,  if  that  is  what  you  mean,'  she  said  mischiev- 
ously, '  you  should  have  noticed  the  exact  spot.  It  was 
there.'  She  put  her  finger  on  a  particular  portion  of 
its  edge. 

'  You  ought  not  to  act  like  that,  unless  you  mean 
something,  Miss  Power,'  he  replied  gravely. 

'  Tell  me  more  plainly.' 

'  I  mean,  you  should  not  do  things  which  excite  in 
me  the  hope  that  you  care  something  for  me,  unless  you 
really  do.' 

'  I  put  my  finger  on  the  edge  and  said  it  was 
there.' 

'  Meaning,  "  It  was  there  my  lips  touched  ;  let  yours 
do  the  same."  ' 

'The  latter  part  I  wholly  deny,'  she  answered,  with 
disregard,  after  which  she  went  away,  and  kept  be- 
tween Charlotte  and  her  aunt  for  the  rest  of  the 
afternoon. 

Since  the  receipt  of  the  telegram  Paula  had  been 
frequently  silent;  she  frequently  stayed  in  alone,  and 
sometimes  she  became  quite  gloomy — an  altogether 
unprecedented  phase  for  her.  This  was  the  case  on 
the  morning  after  the  incident  in  the  Trink-halle.     Not 


4^ 


DE   STANCY  AND   PAULA 

to  intrude  on  her,  Chiuiotte  walked  about  the  landings 
of  the  sunny  white  hotel  in  which  they  had  taken  up 
their  quarters,  went  down  into  the  court,  and  petted 
the  tortoises  that  were  creeping  about  there  among 
the  flowers  and  plants ;  till  at  last,  on  going  to 
her  friend,  she  caught  her  reading  some  old  letters 
of  Somerset's. 

Paula  made  no  secret  of  them,  and  Miss  De  Stancy 
could  see  that  more  than  half  were  written  on  blue 
paper,  with  diagrams  amid  the  writing :  they  were,  in 
fact,  simply  those  sheets  of  his  letters  which  related 
to  the  rebuilding.  Nevertheless,  Charlotte  fancied  she 
had  caught  Paula  in  a  sentimental  mood  ;  and  doubtless 
could  Somerset  have  walked  in  at  this  moment  instead 
of  Charlotte  it  might  have  fared  well  with  him,  so  in- 
sidiously do  tender  memories  reassert  themselves  in 
the  face  of  outward  mishaps. 

They  took  a  drive  dov/n  the  Lichtenthal  road  and 
then  into  the  forest,  De  Stancy  and  Abner  Power  riding 
on  horseback  alongside.  The  sun  streamed  yellow  be- 
hind their  backs  as  they  wound  up  the  long  incHnes, 
lighting  the  red  trunks,  and  even  the  blue-black  foliage 
itself.  The  summer  had  already  made  impression  upon 
that  mass  of  uniform  colour  by  tipping  every  twig  with  a 
tiny  sprout  of  virescent  yellow  ;  while  the  minute  sounds 
which  issued  from  the  forest  revealed  that  the  apparently 
still  place  was  becoming  a  perfect  reservoir  of  insect 
life. 

Abner  Power  was  quite  sentimental  that  day.  '  In 
such  places  as  these,'  he  said,  as  he  rode  alongside 
Mrs.  Goodman,  '  nature's  powers  in  the  multiplication 
of  one  type  strike  me  as  much  as  the  grandeur  of  the 
mass.' 

Mrs.  Goodman  agreed  with  him,  and  Paula  said, 
'  The  foliage  forms  the  roof  of  an  interminable  green 
crypt,  the  pillars  being  the  trunks,  and  the  vault  the 
interlacing  boughs.' 

349 


A   LAODICEAN 

*  It  is  a  fine  place  in  a  thunderstorm,'  said  De  Stancy. 
'  I  am  not  an  enthusiast,  but  to  see  the  hghtning  spring 
hither  and  thither,  like  lazy-tongs,  bristling,  and  striking, 
and  vanishing,  is  rather  impressive.' 

'  It  must  be  indeed,'  said  Paula. 

'  And  in  the  winter  winds  these  pines  sigh  like  ten 
thousand  spirits  in  trouble.' 

'  Indeed  they  must,'  said  Paula. 

'  At  the  same  time  I  know  a  little  fir-plantation 
about  a  mile  square,  not  far  from  Markton,'  said  De 
Stancy,  '  which  is  precisely  like  this  in  miniature, — 
stems,  colours,  slopes,  winds,  and  all.  If  we  were  to  go 
there  any  time  with  a  highly  magnifying  pair  of  spec- 
tacles it  would  look  as  fine  as  this — and  save  a  deal 
of  travelling.' 

'  I  know  the  place,  and  I  agree  with  you,'  said 
Paula, 

'You  agree  with  me  on  all  subjects  but  one,'  he 
presently  observed,  in  a  voice  not  intended  to  reach 
the  others. 

Paula  looked  at  him,  but  was  silent. 

Onward  and  upward  they  went,  the  same  pattern 
and  colour  of  tree  repeating  themselves  endlessly,  till 
in  a  couple  of  hours  they  reached  the  castle  hill  which 
was  to  be  the  end  of  their  journey,  and  beheld  stretched 
beneath  them  the  valley  of  the  Murg.  They  alighted 
and  entered  the  fortress. 

'  ^^^hat  did  you  mean  by  that  look  of  kindness  you 
bestowed  upon  me  just  now,  when  I  said  you  agreed 
with  me  on  all  subjects  but  one  ? '  asked  De  Stancy 
half  humorously,  as  he  held  open  a  little  door  for  her, 
the  others  having  gone  ahead. 

'  I  meant,  I  suppose,  that  I  was  much  obliged  to  you 
for  not  requiring  agreement  on  that  one  subject,'  she 
said,  passing  on. 

'  Not  more  than  that  ? '  said  De  Stancy,  as  he 
followed  her,      '  But  whenever   I   involuntarily  express 

35c 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

towards  you  sentiments  that  there  can  be  no  mistaking, 
you  seem  truly  compassionate.' 

'  If  I  seem  so,  I  feel  so.' 

'  If  you  mean  no  more  than  mere  compassion,  I 
wish  you  would  show  nothing  at  all,  for  your  mistaken 
kindness  is  only  preparing  more  misery  for  me  than  I 
should  have  if  let  alone  to  suffer  without  mercy.' 

'  I  implore  you  to  be  quiet.  Captain  De  Stancy ! 
Leave  me,  and  look  out  of  the  window  at  the  view  here, 
or  at  the  pictures,  or  at  the  armour,  or  whatever  it  is  we 
are  come  to  see.' 

'Very  well.  But  pray  don't  extract  amusement 
from  my  harmless  remarks.  Such  as  they  are  I 
mean  them.' 

She  stopped  him  Ijy  changing  the  subject,  for  they 
had  entered  an  octagonal  chamber  on  the  first  floor, 
presumably  full  of  pictures  and  curiosities ;  but  the 
shutters  were  closed,  and  only  stray  beams  of  light 
gleamed  in  to  suggest  what  was  there. 

'  Can't  somebody  open  the  windows  ?  '  said  Paula. 

'  The  attendant  is  about  to  do  it,'  said  her  uncle ; 
and  as  he  spoke  the  shutters  to  the  east  were  flung 
back,  and  one  of  the  loveliest  views  in  the  forest  dis- 
closed itself  outside. 

Some  of  them  stepped  out  upon  the  balcony.  The 
river  lay  along  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  irradiated  with 
a  silver  shine.  Little  rafts  of  pinewood  floated  on  its 
surface  like  tiny  splinters,  the  men  who  steered  them 
not  appearing  larger  than  ants. 

Paula  stood  on  the  balcony,  looking  for  a  few 
minutes  upon  the  sight,  and  then  came  into  the 
shadowy  room,  where  De  Stancy  had  remained.  While 
the  rest  were  still  outside  she  resumed  :  '  You  must 
not  suppose  that  I  shrink  from  the  subject  you  so  per- 
sistently bring  before  me.  I  respect  deep  affection — 
you  know  I  do ;  but  for  me  to  say  that  I  have  any 
such   for  you,   of  the   particular   sort  you  only  will  be 


A   LAODICEAN 

satisfied  with,  would  be  absurd.  I  don't  feel  it,  and 
therefore  there  can  be  nothing  between  us.  One  would 
think  it  would  be  better  to  feel  kindly  towards  you  than 
to  feel  nothing  at  all.  But  if  you  object  to  that  I'll 
try  to  feel  nothing.' 

'  I  dop't  really  object  to  your  sympathy,'  said  De 
Stancy,  rather  struck  by  her  seriousness.  '  But  it  is 
very  saddening  to  think  you  can  feel  nothing  more.' 

'  It  must  be  so,  since  I  ca7i  feel  no  more,'  she 
decisively  replied,  adding,  as  she  stopped  her  serious- 
ness :   '  You  must  pray  for  strength  to  get  over  it.' 

'  One  thing  I  shall  never  pray  for ;  to  see  you  give 
yourself  to  another  man.  But  I  suppose  I  shall  witness 
that  some  day.' 

'  You  may,'  she  gravely  returned. 

'You  have  no  doubt  chosen  him  already,'  cried  the 
captain  bitterly. 

'  No,  Captain  De  Stancy,'  she  said  shortly,  a  faint 
involuntary  blush  coming  into  her  face  as  she  guessed 
his  allusion. 

This,  and  a  few  glances  round  at  the  pictures  and 
curiosities,  completed  their  survey  of  the  castle.  De 
Stancy  knew  better  than  to  trouble  her  further  that 
day  with  special  remarks.  During  the  return  journey 
he  rode  ahead  with  Mr.  Power  and  she  saw  no  more 
of  him. 

She  would  have  been  astonished  had  she  heard  the 
conversation  of  the  two  gentlemen  as  they  wound  gently 
downwards  through  the  trees. 

'  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,'  Captain  De  Stancy's 
companion  was  saying,  '  nothing  would  give  me  more 
unfeigned  delight  than  that  you  should  persevere  and 
win  her.  But  you  must  understand  that  I  have  no 
authority  over  her — nothing  more  than  the  natural  in- 
fluence that  arises  from  my  being  her  father's  brother.' 

'  And  for  exercising  that  much,  whatever  it  may  be, 
in  my   favour   I   thank   you   heartily,'  said  De  Stancy. 

7  C  2 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

'  But  I  am  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  useless 
to  press  her  further.  She  is  right !  I  am  not  the  man 
for  her.  I  am  too  old,  and  too  poor;  and  I  must 
put  up  as  well  as  I  can  with  her  loss — drown  her 
image  in  old  Falernian  till  I  embark  in  Charon's  boat 
for  good  ! — Really,  if  I  had  the  industry  I  could  write 
some  good  Horatian  verses  on  my  inauspicious  situa- 
tion !  .  .  .  Ah,  well : — in  this  way  I  affect  levity  over 
my  troubles  ;  but  in  plain  truth  my  life  will  not  be  the 
brightest  without  her.' 

'  Don't  be  down-hearted !  you  are  too — too  gentle- 
manl}-,  De  Stancy,  in  this  matter — you  are  too  soon 
put  off — you  should  have  a  touch  of  the  canvasser 
about  you  in  approaching  her ;  and  not  stick  at  things. 
You  have  my  hearty  invitation  to  travel  with  us  all  the 
way  till  we  cross  to  England,  and  there  will  be  heaps 
of  opportunities  as  we  wander  on.  I'll  keep  a  slow 
pace  to  give  you  time.' 

'  You  are  very  good,  my  friend  !  Well,  I  will  try 
again.  I  am  full  of  doubt  and  indecision,  mind,  but 
at  present  I  feel  that  I  will  try  again.  There  is,  I 
suppose,  a  slight  possibility  of  something  or  other 
turning  up  in  my  favour,  if  it  is  true  that  the  un- 
expected always  happens — for  I  foresee  no  chance  what- 
ever. .  .  .  Which  way  do  we  go  when  we  leave  here 
to-morrow  ? ' 

'  To  Carlsruhe,  she  says,  if  the  rest  of  us  have  no 
objection.' 

'Carlsruhe,  then,  let  it  be,  with  all  my  heart;  or 
anywhere.' 

To  Carlsruhe  they  went  next  day,  after  a  night  of 
soft  rain  which  brought  up  a  warm  steam  from  the 
Schwarzwald  valleys,  and  caused  the  young  tufts  and 
grasses  to  swell  visibly  in  a  few  hours.  After  the 
Baden  slopes  the  flat  thoroughfares  of  '  Charles's  Rest ' 
seemed  somewhat  uninteresting,  though  a  busy  fair 
which  was  proceeding  in  the  streets  created  a  quaint  and 

353  z 


A   LAODICEAN 

unexpected  liveliness.  On  reachint^  the  old-fashioned 
inn  in  the  Lange-Strasse  that  they  had  fixed  on,  the 
women  of  the  party  betook  themselves  to  their  rooms, 
and  showed  little  inclination  to  see  more  of  the  world 
that  day  than  could  be  gleaned  from  the  hotel 
windows. 


DE   STANCY  AND   PAULA 


III 

\\  HILE  the  malignant  tongues  had  been  playing 
havoc  with  Somerset's  fame  in  the  ears  of  Paula  and 
her  companion,  the  young  man  himself  was  proceeding 
partly  by  rail,  partly  on  foot,  below  and  amid  the  olive- 
clad  hills,  vineyards,  carob  groves,  and  lemon  gardens 
of  the  Mediterranean  shores.  Arrived  at  San  Remo 
he  wrote  to  Nice  to  inquire  for  letters,  and  such  as  had 
come  were  duly  forwarded ;  but  not  one  of  them  was 
from  Paula.  This  broke  down  his  resolution  to  hold 
off,  and  he  hastened  directly  to  Genoa,  regretting  that 
he  had  not  taken  this  step  when  he  first  heard  that 
she  was  there. 

Something  in  the  very  aspect  of  the  marble  halls 
of  that  city,  which  at  any  other  time  he  would  have 
liked  to  linger  over,  whispered  to  him  that  the  bird 
had  flown ;  and  inquiry  confirmed  the  fancy.  Never- 
theless, the  architectural  beauties  of  the  palace-bordered 
street,  looking  as  if  mountains  of  marble  must  have 
been  levelled  to  supply  the  materials  for  constructing 
it,  detained  him  there  two  days :  or  rather  a  feat  of 
resolution,  Ijy  which  he  set  himself  to  withstand  the 
drag-chain  of  Paula's  influence,  was  operative  for  that 
space  of  time. 

At  the  end  of  it  he  moved  onward.  There  was  no 
difficulty   in   discovering  their   track    northwards ;    and 

355 


A    LAODICEAN 

feeling  that  he  might  as  well  return  to  England  by  the 
Rhine  route  as  by  any  other,  he  followed  in  the  course 
they  had  chosen,  getting  scent  of  them  in  Strassburg, 
missing  them  at  Baden  by  a  day,  and  finally  overtaking 
them  at  Carlsruhe,  which  town  he  reached  on  the  morn- 
ing after  the  Power  and  De  Stancy  party  had  taken  up 
their  quarters  at  the  ancient  inn  above  mentioned. 

When  Somerset  was  about  to  get  out  of  the  train 
at  this  place,  little  dreaming  what  a  meaning  the  word 
Carlsruhe  would  have  for  him  in  subsequent  years,  he 
was  disagreeably  surprised  to  see  no  other  than  Dare 
stepping  out  of  the  adjoining  carriage.  A  new  brown 
leather  valise  in  one  of  his  hands,  a  new  umbrella  in 
the  other,  and  a  new  suit  of  fashionable  clothes  on  his 
back,  seemed  to  denote  considerable  improvement  in 
the  young  man's  fortunes.  Somerset  was  so  struck  by 
the  circumstance  of  his  being  on  this  spot  that  he 
almost  missed  his  opportunity  for  alighting. 

Dare  meanwhile  had  moved  on  without  seeing  his 
former  employer,  and  Somerset  resolved  to  take  the 
chance  that  offered,  and  let  him  go.  There  was  some- 
thing so  mysterious  in  their  common  presence  simul- 
taneously at  one  place,  five  hundred  miles  from  where 
they  had  last  met,  that  he  exhausted  conjecture  on 
whether  Dare's  errand  this  way  could  have  anything  to 
do  with  his  own,  or  whether  their  juxtaposition  a  second 
time  was  the  result  of  pure  accident.  Greatly  as  he 
would  have  liked  to  get  this  answered  by  a  direct 
question  to  Dare  himself,  he  did  not  counteract  his  first 
instinct,  and  remained  unseen. 

They  went  out  in  different  directions,  when  Somerset 
for  the  first  time  remembered  that,  in  learning  at  Baden 
that  the  party  had  flitted  towards  Carlsruhe,  he  had 
taken  no  care  to  ascertain  the  name  of  the  hotel  they 
were  bound  for.  Carlsruhe  was  not  a  large  place  and 
the  point  was  immaterial,  but  the  omission  would  neces- 
sitate a  little  inquiry.     To  follow  Dare  on  the  chance 

356 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

of  his  having  fixed  upon  the  same  quarters  was  a  course 
which  did  not  commend  itself.  He  resolved  to  get 
some  lunch  before  proceeding  with  his  business — or 
fatuity — of  discovering  the  elusive  lady,  and  drove  off 
to  a  neighbouring  tavern,  which  did  not  liappen  to  be, 
as  he  hoped  it  might,  the  one  chosen  by  those  who  had 
preceded  him. 

Meanwhile  Dare,  previously  master  of  their  plans, 
went  straight  to  the  house  which  sheltered  them,  and 
on  entering  under  the  archway  from  the  Lange-Strasse 
was  saved  the  trouble  of  inquiring  for  Captain  De  Stancy 
by  seeing  him  drinking  bitters  at  a  little  table  in  the 
court.  Had  Somerset  chosen  this  inn  for  his  quarters 
instead  of  the  one  in  the  Market- Place  which  he  actually 
did  choose,  the  three  must  inevitably  have  met  here  at 
this  moment,  with  some  possibly  striking  dramatic  re- 
sults ;  though  what  they  would  have  been  remains  for 
ever  hidden  in  the  darkness  of  the  unfulfilled. 

De  Stancy  jumped  up  from  his  chair,  and  went  for- 
ward to  the  new-comer.  '  You  are  not  long  behind  us, 
then,'  he  said,  with  laconic  disquietude.  '  I  thought 
you  were  going  straight  home  ? ' 

'  I  was,'  said  Dare,  '  but  I  have  been  blessed  with 
what  I  may  call  a  small  competency  since  I  saw  you 
last.  Of  the  two  hundred  francs  you  gave  me  I  risked 
fifty  at  the  tables,  and  I  have  multiplied  them,  how 
many  times  do  you  think  ?  More  than  four  hundred 
times.' 

De  Stancy  immediately  looked  grave.  '  I  wish  you 
had  lost  them,'  he  said,  with  as  much  feeling  as  could 
be  shown  in  a  place  where  strangers  were  hovering  near. 

'  Nonsense,  captain  !  I  have  proceeded  purely  on  a 
calculation  of  chances  ;  and  my  calculations  proved  as 
true  as  I  expected,  notwithstanding  a  little  in-and-out 
luck  at  first.  Witness  this  as  the  result.'  He  smacked 
his  bag  with  his  umbrella,  and  the  chink  of  money  re- 
sounded from  within.      '  Just  feel  the  weight  of  it ! ' 

357 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  It  is  not  necessary.     I'll  take  your  word.' 

'  Shall  I  lend  you  five  pounds  ?  ' 

'  God  forbid  !  As  if  that  would  repay  me  for  what 
you  have  cost  me  !  But  come,  let's  get  out  of  this  place 
to  where  we  can  talk  more  freely.'  He  put  his  hand 
through  the  young  man's  arm,  and  led  him  round  the 
corner  of  the  hotel  towards  the  Schloss-Platz. 

*  These  runs  of  luck  will  be  your  ruin,  as  I  have  told 
you  before,'  continued  Captain  De  Stancy.  '  You  wall 
be  for  repeating  and  repeating  your  experiments,  and 
will  end  by  blowing  your  brains  out,  as  wiser  heads  than 
yours  have  done.  I  am  glad  you  have  come  away,  at 
any  rate.     Why  did  you  travel  this  way  ? ' 

'  Simply  because  I  could  afford  it,  of  course. — But 
come,  captain,  something  has  ruffled  you  to-day.  I 
thought  you  did  not  look  in  the  best  temper  the  moment 
I  saw  you.  Every  sip  you  took  of  your  pick-up  as  you 
sat  there  showed  me  something  was  wrong.  Tell  your 
worry ! ' 

*  Pooh — I  can  tell  you  in  two  words,'  said  the  cap- 
tain satirically.  '  Your  arrangement  for  my  wealth  and 
happiness — for  I  suppose  you  still  claim  it  to  be  yours 
— has  fallen  through.  The  lady  has  announced  to-day 
that  she  means  to  send  for  Somerset  instantly.  She  is 
coming  to  a  personal  explanation  with  him.  So  woe  to 
me — and  in  another  sense,  woe  to  you,  as  I  have  reason 
to  fear.' 

'  Send  for  him  ! '  said  Dare,  with  the  stillness  of  com- 
plete abstraction.     '  Then  he'll  come.' 

'  Well,'  said  De  Stancy,  looking  him  in  the  face. 
'  And  does  it  make  you  feel  you  had  better  be  off  ? 
How  about  that  telegram  ?  Did  he  ask  you  to  send  it, 
or  did  he  not  ? ' 

'  One  minute,  or  I  shall  be  up  such  a  tree  as  nobody 
ever  saw  the  like  of.' 

'  Then  what  did  you  come  here  for  ?  '  burst  out  De 

Stancy.     '  'Tis  my  belief  you  are  no  more  than  a 

358 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

But  I  won't  call  you  names ;  I'll  tell  you  quite  plainly 
that  if  there  is  anything  wrong  in  that  message  to  her 
— which  I  believe  there  is — no,  I  can't  believe,  though 
I  fear  it — you  have  the  chance  of  appearing  in  drab 
clothes  at  the  expense  of  the  Government  before  the 
year  is  out,  and  I  of  being  eternally  disgraced  ! ' 

'  No,  captain,  you  won't  be  disgraced.  I  am  bad  to 
beat,  I  can  tell  you.  And  come  the  worst  luck,  I  don't 
say  a  word.' 

'  But  those  letters  pricked  in  your  skin  would  say  a 
good  deal,  it  strikes  me.' 

'  What !  would  they  strip  me  ? — but  it  is  not  coming 
to  that.  Look  here,  now,  I'll  tell  you  the  truth  for 
once;  though  you  don't  believe  me  capable  of  it.  I 
did  concoct  that  telegram — and  sent  it;  just  as  a 
practical  joke;  and  many  a  worse  one  has  been  only 
laughed  at  by  honest  men  and  officers.  I  could  show 
you  a  bigger  joke  still — a  joke  of  jokes — on  the  same 
individual.' 

Dare  as  he  spoke  put  his  hand  into  his  breast-pocket, 
as  if  the  said  joke  lay  there ;  but  after  a  moment  he  with- 
drew his  hand  empty,  as  he  continued : 

'  Having  invented  it  I  have  done  enough ;  I  was 
going  to  explain  it  to  you,  that  you  might  carry  it  out. 
But  you  are  so  serious,  that  I  will  leave  it  alone.  My 
second  joke  shall  die  with  me.' 

'  So  much  the  better,'  said  De  Stancy.  '  I  don't 
like  your  jokes,  even  though  they  arc  not  directed 
against  myself.  They  express  a  kind  of  humour  which 
does  not  suit  me.' 

'  You  may  have  reason  to  alter  your  mind,'  said 
Dare  carelessly.  '  Your  success  with  your  lady  may 
depend  on  it.  The  truth  is,  captain,  we  aristocrats 
must  not  take  too  high  a  tone.  Our  days  as  an  in- 
dependent divi.sion  of  society,  which  holds  aloof  from 
other  sections,  are  past.  This  has  been  my  argument 
(in  spite  of  my  strong  Norman  feelings)  ever  since  I 

359 


A   LAODICEAN 

broached  the  subject  of  your  marrying  this  girl,  who 
represents  both  intellect  and  wealth — all,  in  fact,  except 
the  historical  prestige  that  you  represent.  And  we 
mustn't  flinch  at  things.  The  case  is  even  more  press- 
ing than  ordinary  cases — owing  to  the  odd  fact  that  the 
representative  of  the  new  blood  who  has  come  in  our 
way  actually  lives  in  your  own  old  house,  and  owns 
your  own  old  lands.  The  ordinary  reason  for  such 
alliances  is  quintupled  in  our  case.  Do  then  just  think 
and  be  reasonable,  before  you  talk  tall  about  not  liking 
my  jokes,  and  all  that.     Beggars  mustn't  be  choosers.' 

'  There's  really  much  reason  in  your  argument,'  said 
De  Stancy,  with  a  bitter  laugh :  '  and  my  own  heart 
argues  much  the  same  way.  But,  leaving  me  to  take 
care  of  my  aristocratic  self,  I  advise  your  aristocratic 
self  to  slip  off  at  once  to  England  like  any  hang-gallows 
dog ;  and  if  Somerset  is  here,  and  you  have  been  doing 
wrong  in  his  name,  and  it  all  comes  out,  I'll  try  to  save 
you,  as  far  as  an  honest  man  can.  If  you  have  done  no 
wrong,  of  course  there  is  no  fear ;  though  I  should  be 
obliged  by  your  going  homeward  as  quickly  as  possible, 
as  being  better  both  for  you  and  for  me,  .  .  .  Hullo — 
Damnation  ! ' 

They  had  reached  one  side  of  the  Schloss-Platz,  no- 
body apparently  being  near  them  save  a  sentinel  who 
was  on  duty  before  the  Palace ;  but  turning  as  he 
spoke,  De  Stancy  beheld  a  group  consisting  of  his  sister, 
Paula,  and  Mr.  Power,  stroUing  across  the  square  to- 
wards them. 

It  was  impossible  to  escape  their  observation,  and 
putting  a  bold  front  upon  it,  De  Stancy  advanced  with 
Dare  at  his  side,  till  in  a  few  moments  the  two  parties 
met,  Paula  and  Charlotte  recognizing  Dare  at  once  as 
the  young  man  who  assisted  at  the  castle. 

'  I  have  met  my  young  photographer,'  said  De 
Stancy  cheerily.  '  What  a  small  world  it  is,  as  every- 
body truly  observes  !      I  am  wishing  he  could  take  some 

360 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

views  for  us  as  we  go  on  ;  but  you  have  no  apparatus 
with  you,  I  suppose,  Mr.  Dare?' 

'  I  have  not,  sir,  I  am  sorry  to  say,'  replied  Dare 
respectfully. 

'  You  could  get  some,  I  suppose  ? '  asked  Paula  of 
the  interesting  young  photographer. 

Dare  declared  that  it  would  be  not  impossible : 
whereupon  De  Stancy  said  that  it  w'as  only  a  passing 
thought  of  his ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  two  parties 
again  separated,  going  their  several  ways. 

'  That  was  awkward,'  said  De  Stancy,  trembling  with 
excitement.  '  I  would  advise  you  to  keep  further  off 
in  future.' 

Dare  said  thoughtfully  that  he  would  be  careful, 
adding,  '  She  is  a  prize  for  any  man,  indeed,  leaving 
alone  the  substantial  possessions  behind  her !  Now 
was  I  too  enthusiastic?  Was  I  a  fool  for  urging 
you  on  ? ' 

'  Wait  till  success  justifies  the  undertaking.  In  case 
of  failure  it  will  have  been  anything  but  wise.  It  is  no 
light  matter  to  have  a  carefully  preserved  repose  broken 
in  upon  for  nothing  —  a  repose  that  could  never  be 
restored  ! ' 

They  walked  down  the  Carl-Friedrichs-Strasse  to  the 
Margrave's  Pyramid,  and  back  to  the  hotel,  where  Dare 
also  decided  to  take  up  his  stay.  De  Stancy  left  him 
with  the  book-keeper  at  the  desk,  and  went  upstairs  to 
see  if  the  ladies  had  returned. 


A   LAODICEAN 


IV 

ix  E  found  them  in  their  sitting-room  with  their  bonnets 
on,  as  if  they  had  just  come  in.  Mr.  Power  was  also 
present,  reading  a  newspaper,  but  Mrs.  Goodman  had 
gone  out  to  a  neighbouring  shop,  in  the  windows  of 
which  she  had  seen  something  whicli  attracted  her 
fancy. 

When  De  Stancy  entered,  Paula's  thoughts  seemed 
to  revert  to  Dare,  for  almost  at  once  she  asked  him  in 
what  direction  the  youth  was  travelling.  With  some 
hesitation  De  Stancy  replied  that  he  beheved  Mr.  Dare 
was  returning  to  England  after  a  spring  trip  for  the  im- 
provement of  his  mind. 

'  A  very  praiseworthy  thing  to  do,'  said  Paula. 
'  What  places  has  he  visited  ?  ' 

'Those  which  afford  opportunities  for  the  study  of 
the  old  masters,  I  believe,'  said  De  Stancy  blandly. 
'  He  has  also  been  to  Turin,  Genoa,  Marseilles,  and  so 
on.'  The  captain  spoke  the  more  readily  to  her  ques- 
tioning in  that  he  divined  her  words  to  be  dictated,  not 
by  any  suspicions  of  his  relations  with  Dare,  but  by  her 
knowledge  of  Dare  as  the  draughtsman  employed  by 
Somerset. 

'  Has  he  been  to  Nice  ?  '  she  next  demanded.  '  Did 
he  go  there  in  company  with  my  architect  ? ' 

'  I  think  not.' 

362 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

'  Has  he  seen  anything  of  him  ?  My  architect 
Somerset  once  employed  him.     They  know  each  other.' 

'  I  think  he  saw  Somerset  for  a  short  time.' 

Paula  was  silent.  '  Do  you  know  where  this  young 
man  Dare  is  at  the  present  moment  ? '  she  asked 
quickly. 

De  Stancy  said  that  Dare  was  staying  at  the  same 
hotel  with  themselves,  and  that  he  believed  he  was 
downstairs. 

'  I  think  I  can  do  no  better  than  send  for  him/  said 
she.  '  He  may  be  able  to  throw  some  light  upon  the 
matter  of  that  telegram.' 

She  rang  and  despatched  the  waiter  for  the  young 
man  in  question,  De  Stancy  almost  visibly  trembling  for 
the  result.  But  he  opened  the  town  directory  which 
was  lying  on  a  table,  and  affected  to  be  engrossed  in 
the  names. 

Before  Dare  was  shown  in  she  said  to  her  uncle, 
'  Perhaps  you  will  speak  to  him  for  me  ?  ' 

Mr.  Power,  looking  up  from  the  paper  he  vras  read- 
ing, assented  to  her  proposition.  Dare  appeared  in  the 
doorway,  and  the  waiter  retired.  Dare  seemed  a  trifle 
startled  out  of  his  usual  coolness,  the  message  having 
evidently  been  unexpected,  and  he  came  forward  some- 
what uneasily. 

'  Mr.  Dare,  we  are  anxious  to  know  something  of  Miss 
Power's  architect ;  and  Captain  De  Stancy  tells  us  you 
have  seen  him  lately,'  said  Mr.  Power  sonorously  over 
the  edge  of  his  newspaper. 

Not  knowing  whether  danger  menaced  or  no,  or,  if  it 
menaced,  from  what  quarter  it  was  to  be  expected.  Dare 
felt  that  honesty  was  as  good  as  anything  else  for  him, 
and  replied  boldly  that  he  had  seen  Mr.  Somerset,  De 
Stancy  continuing  to  cream  and  mantle  almost  visibly, 
in  anxiety  at  the  situation  of  the  speaker. 

'  And  where  did  you  see  him  ?  '  continued  Mr.  Power. 

'  In  the  Casino  at  Monte  Carlo.' 

363 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  How  long  did  you  see  him  ?  ' 

'  Only  for  half  an  hour.     I  left  him  there.' 

Paula's  interest  got  the  better  of  her  reserve,  and  she 
cut  in  upon  her  uncle :  '  Did  he  seem  in  any  unusual 
state,  or  in  trouble  ?  ' 

'  He  was  rather  excited,'  said  Dare. 

'  And  can  you  remember  when  that  was  ?  ' 

Dare  considered,  looked  at  his  pocket-book,  and  said 
that  it  was  on  the  evening  of  April  the  twenty-second. 

The  answer  had  a  significance  for  Paula,  De  Stancy, 
and  Charlotte,  to  which  Abner  Power  was  a  stranger. 
The  telegraphic  request  for  money,  which  had  been  kept 
a  secret  from  him  by  his  niece,  because  of  his  already 
unfriendly  tone  towards  Somerset,  arrived  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  twenty-third — a  date  which  neighboured  with 
painfully  suggestive  nicety  upon  that  now  given  by  Dare. 

She  seemed  to  be  silenced,  and  asked  no  more 
questions.  Dare  having  furbished  himself  up  to  a 
gentlemanly  appearance  with  some  of  his  recent  win- 
nings, was  invited  to  stay  on  awhile  by  Paula's  uncle, 
who,  as  became  a  travelled  man,  was  not  fastidious  as 
to  company.  Being  a  youth  of  the  world,  Dare  made 
himself  agreeable  to  that  gentleman,  and  afterwards 
tried  to  do  the  same  with  Miss  De  Stancy.  At  this 
the  captain,  to  whom  the  situation  for  some  time  had 
been  amazingly  uncomfortable,  pleaded  some  excuse 
for  going  out,  and  left  the  room. 

Dare  continued  his  endeavours  to  say  a  few  polite 
nothings  to  Charlotte  De  Stancy,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  drew  from  his  pocket  his  new  silk  handkerchief.  By 
some  chance  a  card  came  out  with  the  handkerchief, 
and  fluttered  downwards.  His  momentary  instinct  was 
to  make  a  grasp  at  the  card  and  conceal  it :  but  it  had 
already  tumbled  to  the  floor,  where  it  lay  face  upward 
beside  Charlotte  De  Stancy's  chair. 

It  was  neither  a  visiting  nor  a  playing  card,  but  one 
bearing  a  photographic  portrait  of  a  peculiar  nature.     It 

364 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

was  what  Dare  had  characterized  as  his  best  joke  of  all 
in  speaking  on  the  subject  to  Captain  De  Stancy  :  he 
had  in  the  morning  put  it  ready  in  his  pocket  to  give 
to  the  captain,  and  had  in  fact  held  it  in  waiting  between 
his  finger  and  thumb  while  talking  to  him  in  the  Platz, 
meaning  that  he  should  make  use  of  it  against  his  rival 
whenever  convenient.  But  his  sharp  conversation  with 
that  soldier  had  dulled  his  zest  for  this  final  joke  at 
Somerset's  expense,  had  at  least  shown  him  that  De 
Stancy  would  not  adopt  the  joke  by  accepting  the 
photograph  and  using  it  himself,  and  determined  him 
to  lay  it  aside  till  a  more  convenient  time.  So  fully 
had  he  made  up  his  mind  on  this  course,  that  when 
the  photograph  slipped  out  he  did  not  at  first  perceive 
the  appositeness  of  the  circumstance,  in  putting  into 
his  own  hands  the  role  he  had  intended  for  De  Stancy ; 
though  it  was  asserted  afterwards  that  the  whole  scene 
was  deliberately  planned.  However,  once  having  seen 
the  accident,  he  resolved  to  take  the  current  as  it 
served. 

The  card  having  fallen  beside  her,  Miss  De  Stancy 
glanced  over  it,  which  indeed  she  could  not  help  doing. 
The  smile  that  had  previously  hung  upon  her  lips  was 
arrested  as  if  by  frost :  and  she  involuntarily  uttered 
a  little  distressed  cry  of  '  O  ! '  like  one  in  bodily  pain. 

Paula,  who  had  been  talking  to  her  uncle  during 
this  interlude,  started  round,  and  wondering  what  had 
happened,  inquiringly  crossed  the  room  to  poor 
Charlotte's  side,  asking  her  what  was  the  matter. 
Charlotte  had  regained  self-possession,  though  not 
enough  to  enable  her  to  reply,  and  Paula  asked  her 
a  second  time  what  had  made  her  exclaim  like  that. 
Miss  De  Stancy  still  seemed  confused,  whereupon 
Paula  noticed  that  her  eyes  were  continually  drawn 
as  if  by  fascination  towards  the  photograph  on  the 
floor,  which,  contrary  to  his  first  impulse.  Dare,  as  has 
been  said,  now  seemed   in   no   hurry  to   regain.     Sur- 

365 


A   LAODICEAN 

mising  at  last  that  the  card,  whatever  it  was,  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  the  exclamation,  Paula  picked  it  up. 

It  was  a  portrait  of  Somerset ;  but  by  a  device  known 
in  photography  the  operator,  though  contriving  to  pro- 
duce what  seemed  to  be  a  perfect  likeness,  had  given 
it  the  distorted  features  and  wild  attitude  of  a  man 
advanced  in  intoxication.  No  woman,  unless  specially 
cognizant  of  such  possibilities,  could  have  looked  upon 
it  and  doubted  that  the  photograph  was  a  genuine 
illustration  of  a  customary  phase  in  the  young  man's 
private  life. 

Paula  observed  it,  thoroughly  took  it  in ;  but  the 
effect  upon  her  was  by  no  means  clear.  Charlotte's  eyes 
at  once  forsook  the  portrait  to  dwell  on  Paula's  face.  It 
paled  a  little,  and  this  was  followed  by  a  hot  blush — 
perceptibly  a  blush  of  shame.  That  was  all.  She  flung 
the  picture  down  on  the  table,  and  moved  away. 

It  was  now  Mr.  Power's  turn.  Anticipating  Dare, 
who  was  advancing  with  a  deprecatory  look  to  seize 
the  photograph,  he  also  grasped  it.  When  he  saw  whom 
it  represented  he  seemed  both  amused  and  startled, 
and  after  scanning  it  a  while  handed  it  to  the  young 
man  with  a  queer  smile. 

'  I  am  very  sorry,'  began  Dare  in  a  low  voice  to  Mr. 
Power.  '  I  fear  I  was  to  blame  for  thoughtlessness  in 
not  destroying  it.  But  I  thought  it  was  rather  funny 
that  a  man  should  permit  such  a  thing  to  be  done,  and 
that  the  humour  would  redeem  the  offence.' 

'  In  you,  for  purchasing  it,'  said  Paula  with  haughty 
quickness  from  the  other  side  of  the  room.  'Though 
probably  his  friends,  if  he  has  any,  would  say  not  in  him.' 

There  was  silence  in  the  room  after  this,  and  Dare, 
finding  himself  rather  in  the  way,  took  his  leave  as  un- 
ostentatiously as  a  cat  that  has  upset  the  family  china, 
though  he  continued  to  say  among  his  apologies  that 
he  was  not  aware  Mr.  Somerset  was  a  personal  friend 
of  the  ladies. 

366 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

Of  all  the  thoughts  which  filled  the  minds  of  Paula 
and  Charlotte  De  Stancy,  the  thought  that  the  photograph 
might  have  been  a  fabrication  was  probably  the  last. 
To"  them  that  picture  of  Somerset  had  all  the  cogency  of 
direct  vision.  Paula's  experience,  much  less  Charlotte's, 
had  never  lain  in  the  fields  of  heliographic  science,  and 
they  would  as  soon  have  thought  that  the  sun  could 
again  stand  still  upon  Gibeon,  as  that  it  could  be  made 
to  falsify  men's  characters  in  delineating  their  features. 
What  Abner  Power  thought  he  himself  best  knew.  He 
might  have  seen  such  pictures  before;  or  he  might 
never  have  heard  of  them. 

While  pretending  to  resume  his  reading  he  closely 
observed  Paula,  as  did  also  Charlotte  De  Stancy;  but 
thanks  to  the  self-management  which  was  Miss  Power's 
as  much  by  nature  as  by  art,  she  dissembled  whatever 
emotion  was  in  her. 

'  It  is  a  pity  a  professional  man  should  make  himself 
so  ludicrous,'  she  said  with  such  careless  intonation  that 
it  was  almost  impossible,  even  for  Charlotte,  who  knew 
her  so  well,  to  believe  her  indifference  feigned. 

'  Yes,'  said  !Mr.  Power,  since  Charlotte  did  not  speak  : 
'  it  is  what  I  scarcely  should  have  expected.' 

'  O,  I  am  not  surprised  ! '  said  Paula  quickly.  '  You 
don't  know  all.'  The  inference  was,  indeed,  inevitable 
that  if  her  uncle  were  made  aware  of  the  telegram  he 
would  see  nothing  unlikely  in  the  picture.  '  Well,  you 
are  very  silent ! '  continued  Paula  petulantly,  when  she 
found  that  nobody  went  on  talking.  '  What  made  you 
cry  out  "  O,"  Charlotte,  when  Mr.  Dare  dropped  that 
horrid  photograph  ? ' 

'  I  don't  know ;  I  suppose  it  frightened  me,' 
stammered  the  girl. 

'  It  was  a  stupid  fuss  to  make  before  such  a 
person.  One  would  think  you  were  in  love  with  Mr. 
Somerset.' 

'  What    did   you   say,   Paula  ? '   inquired  her   uncle, 

367 


A   LAODICEAN 

looking  up  from  the  newspaper  which  he  had  again 
resumed. 

'  Nothing,  Uncle  Abner.'  She  walked  to  the  window, 
and,  as  if  to  tide  over  what  was  plainly  passing  in  their 
minds  about  her,  she  began  to  make  remarks  on  objects 
in  the  street.  '  What  a  quaint  l:)eing — look,  Charlotte  ! ' 
It  was  an  old  woman  sitting  by  a  stall  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  way,  which  seemed  suddenly  to  hit  Paula's 
sense  of  the  humorous,  though  beyond  the  fact  that  the 
dame  was  old  and  poor,  and  wore  a  white  handkerchief 
over  her  head,  there  was  really  nothing  noteworthy 
about  her. 

Paula  seemed  to  be  more  hurt  by  what  the  silence 
of  her  companions  implied — a  suspicion  that  the  dis- 
covery of  Somerset's  depravity  was  wounding  her  heart 
— than  by  the  wound  itself  The  ostensible  ease  with 
which  she  drew  them  into  a  bye  conversation  had 
perhaps  the  defect  of  proving  too  much  :  though  her 
tacit  contention  that  no  love  was  in  question  was  not 
incredible  on  the  supposition  that  affronted  pride  alone 
caused  her  eml^irrassment.  The  chief  symptom  of  her 
heart  being  really  tender  towards  Somerset  consisted  in 
her  apparent  blindness  to  Charlotte's  secret,  so  obviously 
suggested  by  her  momentary  agitation. 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 


V 

And  where  was  the  subject  of  their  condemnatory 
opinions  all  this  while  ?  Having  secured  a  room  at 
his  inn,  he  came  forth  to  complete  the  discovery  of  his 
dear  mistress's  halting-place  without  delay.  After  one 
or  two  inquiries  he  ascertained  where  such  a  party  of 
English  were  staying ;  and  arriving  at  the  hotel,  knew 
at  once  that  he  had  tracked  them  to  earth  by  seeing  the 
heavier  portion  of  the  Power  luggage  confronting  him  in 
the  hall.  He  sent  up  intelligence  of  his  presence,  and 
awaited  her  reply  with  a  beating  heart. 

In  the  meanwhile  Dare,  descending  from  his  pernicious 
interview  with  Paula  and  the  rest,  had  descried  Captain 
De  Stancy  in  the  public  drawing-room,  and  entered  to 
him  forthwith.  It  was  while  they  were  here  together 
that  Somerset  passed  the  door  and  sent  up  his  name  to 
Paula. 

The  incident  at  the  railway  station  was  now  reversed, 
Somerset  being  the  observed  of  Dare,  as  Dare  had  then 
been  the  observed  of  Somerset.  Immediately  on  sight 
of  him  Dare  showed  real  alarm.  He  had  imagined  that 
Somerset  would  eventually  impinge  on  Paula's  route, 
but  he  had  scarcely  expected  it  yet ;  and  the  architect's 
sudden  appearance  led  Dare  to  ask  himself  the  ominous 
question  whether  Somerset  had  discovered  his  telegraphic 
trick,  and  was  in  the  mood  for  prompt  measures. 

369  2  A 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  There  is  no  more  for  me  to  do  here,'  said  the  boy- 
man  hastily  to  De  Stancy.  '  Miss  Power  does  not  wish 
to  ask  me  any  more  questions.  I  may  as  well  proceed 
on  my  way,  as  you  advised.' 

De  Stancy,  who  had  also  gazed  with  dismay  at 
Somerset's  passing  figure,  though  with  dismay  of  another 
sort,  was  recalled  from  his  vexation  by  Dare's  remarks, 
and  turning  upon  him  he  said  sharply,  '  Well  may  you 
be  in  such  a  hurry  all  of  a  sudden  ! ' 

'  True,  I  am  superfluous  now.' 

'  You  have  been  doing  a  foolish  thing,  and  you  must 
suffer  its  inconveniences. — Will,  I  am  sorry  for  one 
thing ;  I  am  sorry  I  ever  owned  you ;  for  you  are  not 
a  lad  to  my  heart.  You  have  disappointed  me — disap- 
pointed me  almost  beyond  endurance.' 

'  I  have  acted  acccording  to  my  illumination.  What 
can  you  expect  of  a  man  born  to  dishonour  ? ' 

'  That's  mere  speciousness.  Before  you  knew  any- 
thing of  me,  and  while  you  thought  you  were  the  child 
of  poverty  on  both  sides,  you  were  well  enough ;  but 
ever  since  you  thought  you  were  more  than  that,  you 
have  led  a  life  which  is  intolerable.  What  has  become 
of  your  plan  of  alliance  between  the  De  Stancys  and  the 
Powers  now?  The  man  is  gone  upstairs  who  can  over- 
throw it  all.' 

'  If  the  man  had  not  gone  upstairs,  you  v/ouldn't  have 
complained  of  my  nature  or  my  plans,'  said  Dare  drily. 
'  If  I  mistake  not,  he  will  come  down  again  with  the  flea 
in  his  ear.  However,  I  have  done ;  my  play  is  played 
out.  All  the  rest  remains  with  you.  But,  captain,  grant 
me  this !  If  when  I  am  gone  this  difficulty  should 
vanish,  and  things  should  go  well  with  you,  and  your 
suit  should  prosper,  will  you  think  of  him,  bad  as  he  is, 
who  first  put  you  on  the  track  of  such  happiness,  and 
let  him  know  it  was  not  done  in  vain  ? ' 

'  I  will,'  said  De  Stancy.  '  Promise  me  that  you  will 
be  a  better  boy  ? ' 

370 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

'  Very  well — as  soon  as  ever  I  can  afford  it.  Now  I 
am  up  and  away,  when  I  have  explained  to  them  that  I 
shall  not  require  my  room.' 

Dare  fetched  his  bag,  touched  his  hat  with  his 
umbrella  to  the  captain,  and  went  out  of  the  hotel  arch- 
way. De  Stancy  sat  down  in  the  stuffy  drawing-room, 
and  wondered  what  other  ironies  time  had  in  store  for 
him. 

A  waiter  in  the  interim  had  announced  Somerset  to 
the  group  upstairs.  Paula  started  as  much  as  Charlotte 
at  hearing  the  name,  and  Abner  Power  stared  at  them 
both. 

'  If  Mr.  Somerset  v/ishes  to  see  me  on  business,  show 
him  in,'  said  Paula. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  door  was  thrown  open  for 
Somerset.  On  receipt  of  the  pointed  message  he  guessed 
that  a  change  had  come.  Time,  absence,  ambition,  her 
uncle's  influence,  and  a  new  wooer,  seemed  to  account 
sufficiently  well  for  that  change,  and  he  accepted  his  fate. 
But  a  stoical  instinct  to  show  her  that  he  could  regard 
vicissitudes  with  the  equanimity  that  became  a  man ;  a 
desire  to  ease  her  mind  of  any  fear  she  might  entertain 
that  his  connection  with  her  past  would  render  him 
troublesome  in  future,  induced  him  to  accept  her  per- 
mission, and  see  the  act  to  the  end. 

'  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Somerset  ?  '  said  Abner  Power, 
with  sardonic  geniality :  he  had  been  far  enough  about 
the  world  not  to  be  greatly  concerned  at  Somerset's 
apparent  failing,  particularly  when  it  helped  to  reduce  him 
from  the  rank  of  lover  to  his  niece  to  that  of  professional 
adviser. 

Miss  De  Stancy  faltered  a  welcome  as  weak  as  that 
of  the  Maid  of  Neidpath,  and  Paula  said  coldly,  'We  are 
rather  surprised  to  see  you.  Perhaps  there  is  something 
urgent  at  the  castle  which  makes  it  necessary  for  you  to 
call  ? ' 

'There  is  something  a  little  urgent,'  said  Somerset 

371 


A   LAODICEAN 

slowly,  as  he  approached  her;  'and  you  have  judged 
rightly  that  it  is  the  cause  of  my  call.'  He  sat  down 
near  her  chair  as  he  spoke,  put  down  his  hat,  and  drew 
a  note-book  from  his  pocket  with  a  despairing  sang 
froid  that  was  far  more  perfect  than  had  been  Paula's 
demeanour  just  before. 

'  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  talk  over  the  business 
with  Mr.  Somerset  alone  ? '  murmured  Charlotte  to  Miss 
Power,  hardly  knowing  what  she  said. 

'  O  no,'  said  Paula,  '  I  think  not.  Is  it  necessary  ?  ' 
she  said,  turning  to  him. 

'  Not  in  the  least,'  replied  he,  bestowing  a  penetrating 
glance  upon  his  questioner's  face,  w^hich  seemed  however 
to  produce  no  effect ;  and  turning  towards  Charlotte,  he 
added,  '  You  will  have  the  goodness,  I  am  sure.  Miss  De 
Stancy,  to  excuse  the  jargon  of  professional  details.' 

He  spread  some  tracings  on  the  table,  and  pointed 
out  certain  modified  features  to  Paula,  commenting  as 
he  went  on,  and  exchanging  occasionally  a  few  words 
on  the  subject  with  Mr.  Abner  Power  by  the  distant 
window. 

In  this  architectural  dialogue  over  his  sketches, 
Somerset's  head  and  Paula's  became  unavoidably  very 
close.  The  temptation  was  too  much  for  the  young 
man.  Under  cover  of  the  rustle  of  the  tracings,  he 
murmured,  '  Paula,  I  could  not  get  here  before ! '  in  a 
low  voice  inaudible  to  the  other  two. 

She  did  not  reply,  only  busying  herself  the  more  with 
the  notes  and  sketches  ;  and  he  said  again,  '  I  stayed  a 
couple  of  days  at  Genoa,  and  some  days  at  San  Remo, 
and  Mentone.' 

'But  it  is  not  the  least  concern  of  mine  where  you 
stayed,  is  it  ? '  she  said,  with  a  cold  yet  disquieted 
look. 

'  Do  you  speak  seriously  ?  '  Somerset  brokenly  whis- 
pered. 

Paula   concluded   her   examination   of  the   drawings 

372 


DE   STANCY  AND    PAULA 

and  turned  from  him  with  sorrowful  disregard.  He 
tried  no  further,  but,  when  she  had  signified  her  pleasure 
on  the  points  submitted,  packed  up  his  papers,  and  rose 
with  the  bearing  of  a  man  altogether  superior  to  such  a 
class  of  misfortune  as  this.  Before  going  he  turned  to 
speak  a  few  words  of  a  general  kind  to  Mr.  Power  and 
Charlotte. 

'  You  will  stay  and  dine  with  us  ? '  said  the  former, 
rather  with  the  air  of  being  unhappily  able  to  do  no  less 
than  ask  the  question.  '  My  charges  here  won't  go 
down  to  the  table-d'hote,  I  fear,  but  De  Stancy  and 
myself  will  be  there.' 

Somerset  excused  himself,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
withdrew.  At  the  door  he  looked  round  for  an  instant, 
and  his  eyes  met  Paula's.  There  was  the  same  miles- 
off  expression  in  hers  that  they  had  worn  when  he 
entered ;  but  there  was  also  a  look  of  distressful  inquiry, 
as  if  she  were  earnestly  expecting  him  to  say  something 
more.  This  of  course  Somerset  did  not  comprehend. 
Possibly  she  was  clinging  to  a  hope  of  some  excuse  for 
the  message  he  was  supposed  to  have  sent,  or  for  the 
other  and  more  degrading  matter.  Anyhow,  Somerset 
only  bowed  and  went  away. 

A  moment  after  he  had  gone,  Paula,  impelled  by 
something  or  other,  crossed  the  room  to  the  window. 
In  a  short  time  she  saw  his  form  in  the  broad  street 
below,  which  he  traversed  obliquely  to  an  opposite 
corner,  his  head  somewhat  bent,  and  his  eyes  on  the 
ground.  Before  vanishing  into  the  Ritterstrasse  he 
turned  his  head  and  glanced  at  the  hotel  windows,  as 
if  he  knew  that  she  was  watching  him.  Then  he  dis- 
appeared ;  and  the  only  real  sign  of  emotion  betrayed 
by  Paula  during  the  whole  episode  escaped  her  at  this 
moment.  It  was  a  slight  trembling  of  the  lip  and  a 
sigh  so  slowly  breathed  that  scarce  anybody  could  hear — 
scarcely  even  Charlotte,  who  was  reclining  on  a  couch, 
her  face  on  her  hand  and  her  eyes  downcast. 

373 


A   LAODICEAN 

Not  more  than  two  minutes  had  elapsed  when  Mrs. 
Goodman  came  in  with  a  manner  of  haste. 

'  You  have  returned,'  said  Mr.  Power.  '  Have  you 
made  your  purchases  ?  ' 

Without  answering,  she  asked,  '  Whom,  of  all  people 
on  earth,  do  you  think  I  have  met  ?  Mr.  Somerset ! 
Has  he  been  here? — he  passed  me  almost  without 
speaking  ! ' 

'  Yes,  he  has  been  here,'  said  Paula.  '  He  is  on  the 
way  from  Genoa  home,  and  called  on  business.' 

'  You  will  have  him  here  to  dinner,  of  course  ?  ' 

*  I  asked  him,'  said  Mr.  Power,  '  but  he  declined.' 

'  O,  that's  unfortunate  !  Surely  we  could  get  him  to 
come.  You  would  like  to  have  him  here,  would  you 
not,  Paula  ? ' 

'  No,  indeed.     I  don't  want  him  here,'  said  she. 

'  You  don't  ?  ' 

'  No  ! '  she  said  sharply. 

'  You  used  to  like  him  well  enough,  anyhow,'  bluntly 
rejoined  Mrs.  Goodman. 

Paula  sedately :  '  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  I 
ever  particularly  liked  the  gentleman  mentioned,' 

'  Then  you  are  wrong,  Mrs.  Goodman,  it  seems,'  said 
Mr.  Power. 

Mrs.  Goodman,  who  had  been  growing  quietly  indig- 
nant, notwithstanding  a  vigorous  use  of  her  fan,  at  this 
said  :  '  Fie,  fie,  Paula  !  you  did  like  him.  You  said  to 
me  only  a  week  or  two  ago  that  you  should  not  at  all 
object  to  marry  him.' 

'  It  is  a  mistake,'  repeated  Paula  calmly.  '  I  meant 
the  other  one  of  the  two  we  were  talking  about.' 

'  What,  Captain  Ue  Stancy  ?  ' 

'  Yes.' 

Knowing  this  to  be  a  fiction,  Mrs.  Goodman  made 
no  remark,  and  hearing  a  slight  noise  behind,  turned  her 
head.  Seeing  her  aunt's  action,  Paula  also  looked 
round.     The  door  had  been  left  ajar,  and  De  Stancy 

374 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

was  standing  in  the  room.  The  last  words  of  ISIrs. 
Goodman,  and  Paula's  reply,  must  have  been  quite 
audible  to  him. 

They  looked  at  each  other  much  as  if  they  had 
unexpectedly  met  at  the  altar;  but  after  a  momentary 
start  Paula  did  not  flinch  from  the  position  into  which 
hurt  pride  had  betrayed  her.  De  Stancy  bowed  grace- 
fully, and  she  merely  walked  to  the  furthest  window, 
whither  he  followed  her. 

'  I  am  eternally  grateful  to  you  for  avowing  that  I 
have  won  favour  in  your  sight  at  last,'  he  whispered. 

She  acknowledged  the  remark  with  a  somewhat 
reserved  bearing.  '  Really  I  don't  deserve  your  grati- 
tude,' she  said.     '  I  did  not  know  you  were  there.' 

*  I  know  you  did  not — that's  why  the  avowal  is  so 
sweet  to  me.     Can  I  take  you  at  your  word  ?  ' 

'Yes,  I  suppose.' 

'  Then  your  preference  is  the  greatest  honour  that 
has  ever  fallen  to  my  lot.  It  is  enough :  you  accept 
me?' 

'  As  a  lover  on  probation — no  more.' 

The  conversation  being  carried  on  in  low  tones, 
Paula's  uncle  and  aunt  took  it  as  a  hint  that  their 
presence  could  be  spared,  and  severally  left  the  room 
— the  former  gladly,  the  latter  with  some  vexation. 
Charlotte  De  Stancy  followed. 

'  And  to  what  am  I  indebted  for  this  happy  change  ? ' 
inquired  De  Stancy,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone. 

'  You  shouldn't  look  a  gift-horse  in  the  mouth,'  she 
replied  brusquely,  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes  for  one 
gone. 

'  You  mistake  my  motive.  I  am  like  a  reprieved 
criminal,  and  can  scarcely  believe  the  news.' 

'  You  shouldn't  say  that  to  me,  or  I  shall  begin  to 
think  I  have  been  too  kind,'  she  answered,  some  of  the 
archness  of  her  manner  returning.  '  Now,  I  know  what 
you  mean  to   say  in  answer ;  but  I  don't  want  to  hear 

375 


A   LAODICEAN 

any  more  at  present;  and  whatever  you  do,  don't  fall 
into  the  mistake  of  supposing  I  have  accepted  you  in 
any  other  sense  than  the  way  I  say.  If  you  don't  like 
such  a  limitation  you  can  go  away.  I  dare  say  I  shall 
get  over  it.' 

'  Go  away !  Could  I  go  away  ? — But  you  are  be- 
ginning to  tease,  and  will  soon  punish  me  severely;  so 
I  will  make  my  escape  while  all  is  well.  It  would  be 
presumptuous  to  expect  more  in  one  day.' 

'  It  would  indeed,'  said  Paula,  with  her  eyes  on  a 
bunch  of  flowers. 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 


VI 

On  leaving  the  hotel,  Somerset's  first  impulse  was 
to  get  out  of  sight  of  its  windows,  and  his  glance 
upward  had  perhaps  not  the  tender  significance  that 
Paula  imagined,  the  last  look  impelled  by  any  such 
whifl"  of  emotion  having  been  the  lingering  one  he 
bestowed  upon  her  in  passing  out  of  the  room.  Un- 
luckily for  the  prospects  of  this  attachment,  Paula's 
conduct  towards  him  now,  as  a  result  of  misrepre- 
sentation, had  enough  in  common  with  her  previous 
silence  at  Nice  to  make  it  not  unreasonable  as  a 
further  development  of  that  silence.  Moreover,  her 
social  position  as  a  woman  of  wealth,  always  felt  by 
Somerset  as  a  perceptible  bar  to  that  full  and  free 
eagerness  with  which  he  would  fain  have  approached 
her,  rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  return  to  the 
charge,  ascertain  the  reason  of  her  coldness,  and  dis- 
pel it  by  an  explanation,  without  being  suspected  of 
mercenary  objects.  Continually  does  it  happen  that 
a  genial  willingness  to  bottle  up  affronts  is  set  down 
to  interested  motives  by  those  who  do  not  know  what 
generous  conduct  means.  Had  she  occupied  the 
financial  position  of  Miss  De  Stancy  he  would  readily 
have  persisted  further  and,  not  improbably,  have  cleared 
up  the  cloud. 

377 


A   LAODICEAN 

Having  no  further  interest  in  Carlsruhe,  Somerset 
decided  to  leave  by  an  evening  train.  The  intervening 
hour  he  spent  in  wandering  into  the  thick  of  the  fair, 
where  steam  roundabouts,  the  proprietors  of  wax-work 
shows,  and  fancy-stall  keepers  maintained  a  deafen- 
ing din.  The  animated  environment  was  better  than 
silence,  for  it  fostered  in  him  an  artificial  indifference 
to  the  events  that  had  just  happened — an  indifference 
which,  though  he  too  well  knew  it  was  only  destined 
to  be  temporary,  afforded  a  passive  period  wherein 
to  store  up  strength  that  should  enable  him  to  with- 
stand the  wear  and  tear  of  regrets  which  would  surely 
set  in  soon.  It  was  the  case  with  Somerset  as  with 
others  of  his  temperament,  that  he  did  not  feel  a 
blow  of  this  sort  immediately ;  and  what  often  seemed 
like  stoicism  after  misfortune  was  only  the  neutral 
numbness  of  transition  from  palpitating  hope  to  assured 
wretchedness. 

He  walked  round  and  round  the  fair  till  all  the 
exhibitors  knew  him  by  sight,  and  when  the  sun  got 
low  he  turned  into  the  Erbprinzen-Strasse,  now  raked 
from  end  to  end  by  ensaffroned  rays  of  level  light. 
Seeking  his  hotel  he  dined  there,  and  left  by  the  even- 
ing train  for  Heidelberg. 

Heidelberg  with  its  romantic  surroundings  was  not 
precisely  the  place  calculated  to  heal  Somerset's  wounded 
heart.  He  had  known  the  town  of  yore,  and  his  recol- 
lections of  that  period,  when,  unfettered  in  fancy,  he 
had  transferred  to  his  sketch-book  the  fine  Renaissance 
details  of  the  Otto-Heinrichs-Bau  came  back  with  un- 
pleasant force.  He  knew  of  some  carved  cask-heads 
and  other  curious  wood-work  in  the  castle  cellars,  copies 
of  which,  being  unobtainable  by  photographs,  he  had 
intended  to  make  if  all  went  well  between  Paula  and 
himself.  The  zest  for  this  was  now  well-nigh  over. 
But  on  awaking  in  the  morning  and  looking   up   the 

378 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

valley  towards  the  castle,  and  at  the  dark  green 
height  of  the  Kdnigsstuhl  alongside,  he  felt  that  to 
become  vanquished  by  a  passion,  driven  to  suffer, 
fast,  and  pray  in  the  dull  pains  and  vapours  of  de- 
spised love,  was  a  contingency  not  to  be  welcomed 
too  readily.  Thereupon  he  set  himself  to  learn  the 
sad  science  of  renunciation,  which  everybody  has  to 
learn  in  his  degree — either  rebelling  throughout  the 
lesson,  or,  like  Somerset,  taking  to  it  kindly  by  force 
of  judgment.  A  more  obstinate  pupil  might  have 
altogether  escaped  the  lesson  in  the  present  case  by 
discovering  its  illegality. 

Resolving  to  persevere  in  the  heretofore  satisfactory 
paths  of  art  while  life  and  faculties  were  left,  though 
every  instinct  must  proclaim  that  there  would  be 
no  longer  any  collateral  attraction  in  that  pursuit, 
he  went  along  under  the  trees  of  the  Anlage  and 
reached  the  castle  vaults,  in  whose  cool  shades  he 
spent  the  afternoon,  working  out  his  intentions  with 
fair  result.  When  he  had  strolled  back  to  his  hotel 
in  the  evening  the  time  was  approaching  for  the 
table  -  dliote.  Having  seated  himself  rather  early, 
he  spent  the  few  minutes  of  waiting  in  looking  over 
his  pocket-book,  and  putting  a  few  finishing  touches 
to  the  afternoon  performance  whilst  the  objects  were 
fresh  in  his  memory.  Thus  occupied  he  was  but 
dimly  conscious  of  the  customary  rustle  of  dresses 
and  pulling  up  of  chairs  by  the  crowd  of  other  diners 
as  they  gathered  around  him.  Serving  began,  and 
he  put  away  his  book  and  prepared  for  the  meal. 
He  had  hardly  done  this  when  he  became  con- 
scious that  the  person  on  his  left  hand  was  not  the 
typical  cosmopolite  with  boundless  hotel  knowledge 
and  irrelevant  experiences  that  he  was  accustomed 
to  find  next  him,  but  a  face  he  recognized  as  that 
of  a  young  man  whom  he  had  met  and  talked  to 
at    Stancy  Castle   garden-party,    whose    name    he    had 

379 


A   LAODICEAN 

now  forgotten.  This  young  fellow  was  conversing 
with  somebody  on  his  left  hand — no  other  personage 
than  Paula  herself  Next  to  Paula  he  beheld  Ue 
Stancy,  and  De  Stancy's  sister  beyond  him.  It  was 
one  of  those  gratuitous  encounters  which  only  happen 
to  discarded  lovers  who  have  shown  commendable 
stoicism  under  disappointment,  as  if  on  purpose  to 
reopen  and  aggravate  their  wounds. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  intervening  traveller  had  met 
the  other  party  by  accident  there  and  then.  In  a 
minute  he  turned  and  recognized  Somerset,  and  by 
degrees  the  young  men's  cursory  remarks  to  each 
other  developed  into  a  pretty  regular  conversation, 
interrupted  only  when  he  turned  to  speak  to  Paula  on 
his  left  hand. 

'  Your  architectural  adviser  travels  in  your  party : 
how  very  convenient,'  said  the  young  tourist  to  her. 
'  Far  pleasanter  than  having  a  medical  attendant  in 
one's  train  ! ' 

Somerset,  who  had  no  distractions  on  the  other  side 
of  him,  could  hear  every  word  of  this.  He  glanced 
at  Paula.  She  had  not  known  of  his  presence  in 
the  room  till  now.  Their  eyes  met  for  a  second,  and 
she  bowed  sedately.  Somerset  returned  her  bow,  and 
her  eyes  were  quickly  withdrawn  with  scarcely  visible 
confusion. 

'  Mr.  Somerset  is  not  travelling  with  us,'  she  said. 
'  We  have  met  by  accident.  Mr.  Somerset  came  to  me 
on  business  a  little  while  ago.' 

'  I  must  congratulate  you  on  having  put  the  castle 
into  good  hands,'  continued  the  enthusiastic  young 
man. 

'  I  believe  Mr.  Somerset  is  quite  competent,'  said 
Paula  stiffly. 

To  include  Somerset  in  the  conversation  the  young 
man  turned  to  him  and  added  :  '  You  carry  on  your 
work  at  the  castle  con  aniore,  no  doubt  ?  ' 

380 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

'  There  is  work  I  should  Uke  better,'  said  Somer- 
set. 

' Indeed  ? ' 

The  frigidity  of  his  manner  seemed  to  set  her  at 
ease  by  dispersing  all  fear  of  a  scene;  and  alternate 
dialogues  of  this  sort  with  the  gentleman  in  their  midst 
were  more  or  less  continued  by  both  Paula  and  Somerset 
till  they  rose  from  table. 

In  the  bustle  of  moving  out  the  two  latter  for  one 
moment  stood  side  by  side. 

'  Miss  Power,'  said  Somerset,  in  a  low  voice  that  was 
obscured  by  the  rustle,  '  you  have  nothing  more  to  say 
to  me  ? ' 

'  I  think  there  is  nothing  more  ? '  said  Paula,  lifting 
her  eyes  with  longing  reticence. 

'  Then  I  take  leave  of  you ;  and  tender  my  best 
wishes  that  you  may  have  a  pleasant  time  before 
you !   ...  I   set  out  for  England  to-night.' 

'  With  a  special  photographer,  no  doubt  ?  ' 

It  was  the  first  time  that  she  had  addressed  Somerset 
with  a  meaning  distinctly  bitter ;  and  her  remark,  which 
had  reference  to  the  forged  photograph,  fell  of  course 
without  its  intended  effect. 

'  No,  Miss  Power,'  said  Somerset  gravely.  '  But  with 
a  deeper  sense  of  woman's  thoughtless  trifling  than  time 
will  ever  eradicate.' 

'  Is  not  that  a  mistake  ? '  she  asked  in  a  voice  that 
distinctly  trembled. 

'  A  mistake  ?     How  ?  ' 

'  I  mean,  do  you  not  forget  many  things  ?  '  (throwing 
on  him  a  troubled  glance).  '  A  woman  may  feel  herself 
justified  in  her  conduct,  although  it  admits  of  no  ex- 
planation.' 

'  I  don't  contest  the  point  for  a  moment.  .  .  .  Good- 
bye.' 

'  Good-bye.' 

They  parted   amid   the  flowering   shrubs  and  caged 

381 


A   LAODICEAN 

birds  in  the  hall,  and  he  saw  her  no  more.  De  Stancy 
came  up,  and  spoke  a  few  commonplace  words,  his  sister 
having  gone  out,  either  without  perceiving  Somerset,  or 
with  intention  to  avoid  him. 

That  night,  as   he  had   said,  he  was  on  his  way  to 
England. 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 


VII 


1  HE  De  Stancys  and  Powers  remained  in  Heidelberg 
for  some  days.  All  remarked  that  after  Somerset's 
departure  Paula  was  frequently  irritable,  though  at 
other  times  as  serene  as  ever.  Yet  even  when  in  a 
blithe  and  saucy  mood  there  was  at  bottom  a  tinge 
of  melancholy.  Something  did  not  lie  easy  in  her  un- 
demonstrative heart,  and  all  her  friends  excused  the 
inequalities  of  a  humour  whose  source,  though  not 
positively  known,  could  be  fairly  well  guessed. 

De  Stancy  had  long  since  discovered  that  his  chance 
lay  chiefly  in  her  recently  acquired  and  fanciful  pre- 
dilection d'artiste  for  hoary  mediaeval  families  with 
ancestors  in  alabaster  and  primogenitive  renown. 
Seeing  this  he  dwelt  on  those  topics  which  brought  out 
that  aspect  of  himself  more  clearly,  talking  feudalism  and 
chivalry  with  a  zest  that  he  had  never  hitherto  shown. 
Yet  it  was  not  altogether  factitious.  For,  discovering 
how  much  this  quondam  Puritan  was  interested  in  the 
attril)utes  of  long-chronicled  houses,  a  reflected  interest 
in  himself  arose  in  his  own  soul,  and  he  began  to  wonder 
why  he  had  not  prized  these  things  before.  Till  now 
disgusted  by  the  failure  of  his  family  to  hold  its  own  in 
the  turmoil  between  ancient  and  modern,  he  had  grown 
to  under\'alue  its  past  prestige ;  and  it  was  with  corrective 
ardour  that  he  adopted  while  he  ministered  to  her  views. 


A  LAODICEAN 

Henceforward  the  wooing  of  De  Stancy  took  the 
form  of  an  intermittent  address,  the  incidents  of  their 
travel  furnishing  pegs  whereon  to  hang  his  subject ; 
sometimes  hindering  it,  but  seldom  failing  to  produce 
in  her  a  greater  tolerance  of  his  presence.  His  next 
opportunity  was  the  day  after  Somerset's  departure  from 
Heidelberg.  They  stood  on  the  great  terrace  of  the 
Schloss-Garten,  looking  across  the  intervening  ravine  to 
the  north-east  front  of  the  castle  which  rose  before  them 
in  all  its  customary  warm  tints  and  battered  magnificence. 

'  This  is  a  spot,  if  any,  which  should  bring  matters 
to  a  crisis  between  you  and  me,'  he  asserted  good- 
humouredly.  '  But  you  have  been  so  silent  to-day  that 
I  lose  the  spirit  to  take  advantage  of  my  privilege.' 

She  inquired  what  privilege  he  spoke  of,  as  if  quite 
another  subject  had  been  in  her  mind  than  De  Stancy. 

'  The  privilege  of  winning  your  heart  if  I  can,  which 
you  gave  me  at  Carlsruhe.' 

'  O,'  she  said.  '  Well,  I've  been  thinking  of  that. 
But  I  do  not  feel  myself  absolutely  bound  by  the  state- 
ment I  made  in  that  room ;  and  I  shall  expect,  if  I 
withdraw  it,  not  to  be  called  to  account  by  you.' 

De  Stancy  looked  rather  blank. 

'  If  you  recede  from  your  promise  you  will  doubtless 
have  good  reason.  But  I  must  solemnly  beg  you,  after 
raising  my  hopes,  to  keep  as  near  as  you  can  to  your 
word,  so  as  not  to  throw  me  into  utter  despair.' 

Paula  dropped  her  glance  into  the  Thier-Garten 
below  them,  where  gay  promenaders  were  clambering  up 
between  the  bushes  and  flowers.  At  length  she  said, 
with  evident  embarrassment,  but  with  much  distinctness  : 
'  I  deserve  much  more  blame  for  what  I  have  done  than 
you  can  express  to  me.  I  will  confess  to  you  the  whole 
truth.  All  that  I  told  you  in  the  hotel  at  Carlsruhe 
was  said  in  a  moment  of  pique  at  what  had  happened 
just  before  you  came  in.  It  was  supposed  I  was  much 
involved  with  another  man,  and  circumstances  made  the 

384 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

supposition  particularly  objectionable.  To  escapre  it  I 
jumped  at  the  alternative  of  yourself.' 

'  That's  bad  for  me  ! '  he  murmured. 

'  If  after  this  avowal  you  bind  me  to  my  words  I 
shall  say  no  more :  I  do  not  wish  to  recede  from  them 
without  your  full  permission.' 

'  What  a  caprice  !  But  I  release  you  unconditionally,' 
he  said.  '  And  I  beg  your  pardon  if  I  seemed  to  show 
too  much  assurance.  Please  put  it  down  to  my  gratified 
excitement.  I  entirely  acquiesce  in  your  wish.  I  will 
go  away  to  whatever  place  you  please,  and  not  come 
near  you  but  by  your  own  permission,  and  till  you  are 
(^uite  satisfied  that  my  presence  and  what  it  may  lead 
to  is  not  undesirable.  I  entirely  give  way  before  you, 
and  will  endeavour  to  make  my  future  devotedness,  if 
ever  we  meet  again,  a  new  ground  for  expecting  your 
favour.' 

Paula  seemed  struck  by  the  generous  and  cheerftil 
fairness  of  his  remarks,  and  said  gently,  '  Perhaps  your 
departure  is  not  absolutely  necessary  for  my  happiness ; 
and  I  do  not  wish  from  what  you  call  caprice ' 

'  I  retract  that  word.' 

'  Well,  whatever  it  is,  I  don't  wish  you  to  do  any- 
thing which  should  cause  you  real  pain,  or  trouble,  or 
humiliation.' 

'  That's  very  good  of  you.' 

'  But  I  reserve  to  myself  the  right  to  accept  or  refuse 
your  addresses — ^just  as  if  those  rash  words  of  mine  had 
never  been  spoken.' 

'  I  must  bear  it  all  as  best  I  can,  I  suppose,'  said 
De  Stancy,  with  melancholy  humorousness. 

'  And  I  shall  treat  you  as  your  behaviour  shall  seem 
to  deserve,'  she  said  playfully. 

*  Then  I  may  stay  ?  ' 

'  Yes ;  I  am  willing  to  give  you  that  pleasure,  if  it  is 
one,  in  return  for  the  attentions  you  have  shown,  and 
the  trouble  you  have  taken  to  make  my  journey  pleasant.' 

385  2  B 


A   LAODICEAN 

She  walked  on  and  discovered  Mrs.  Goodman  near, 
and  presently  the  whole  party  met  together,  De  Stancy 
did  not  find  himself  again  at  her  side  till  later  in 
the  afternoon,  when  they  had  left  the  immediate  pre- 
cincts of  the  castle  and  decided  on  a  drive  to  the 
Konigsstulil 

The  carriage,  containing  only  Mrs.  Goodman,  was 
driven  a  short  way  up  the  winding  incline,  Paula,  her 
uncle,  and  Miss  De  Stancy  walking  behind  under  the 
shadow  of  the  trees.  Then  Mrs.  Goodman  called  to 
them  and  asked  when  they  were  going  to  join  her. 

'  We  are  going  to  walk  up,'  said  Mr.  Power. 

Paula  seemed  seized  with  a  spirit  of  boisterousness 
quite  unlike  her  usual  behaviour.  '  My  aunt  may  drive 
up,  and  you  may  walk  up;  but  I  shall  run  up,'  she 
said.  '  See,  here's  a  way.'  She  tripped  towards  a  path 
through  the  bushes  which,  instead  of  winding  like  the 
regular  track,  made  straight  for  the  summit. 

Paula  had  not  the  remotest  conception  of  the  actual 
distance  to  the  top,  imagining  it  to  be  but  a  couple  of 
hundred  yards  at  the  outside,  whereas  it  was  really 
nearer  a  mile,  the  ascent  being  uniformly  steep  all  the 
way.  When  her  uncle  and  De  Stancy  had  seen  her 
vanish  they  stood  still,  the  former  evidently  reluctant 
to  forsake  the  easy  ascent  for  a  difficult  one,  though 
he  said,  '  We  can't  let  her  go  alone  that  way,  I 
suppose.' 

'  No,  of  course  not,'  said  De  Stancy. 

They  then  followed  in  the  direction  taken  by  Paula, 
Charlotte  entering  the  carriage.  When  Power  and  De 
Stancy  had  ascended  about  fifty  yards  the  former  looked 
back,  and  dropped  off  from  the  pursuit,  to  return  to 
the  easy  route,  giving  his  companion  a  parting  hint 
concerning  Paula.  Whereupon  De  Stancy  went  on 
alone.  He  soon  saw  Paula  above  him  in  the  path, 
which  ascended  skyward  straight  as  Jacob's  Ladder, 
but  was  so  overhung  by  the  brushwood  as  to  be  quite 

386 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

shut  out  from  the  sun.  When  he  reached  her  side 
she  was  moving  easily  upward,  apparently  enjoying  the 
seclusion  which  the  place  afforded. 

'  Is  not  my  uncle  with  you  ? '  she  said,  on  turning 
and  seeing  him. 

'  He  went  back,'  said  De  Stancy. 

She  replied  that  it  was  of  no  consequence ;  that  she 
should  meet  him  at  the  top,  she  supposed. 

Paula  looked  up  amid  the  green  light  which  filtered 
through  the  leafage  as  far  as  her  eyes  could  stretch. 
But  the  top  did  not  appear,  and  she  allowed  De  Stancy 
to  get  in  front.  '  It  did  not  seem  such  a  long  way  as 
this,  to  look  at,'  she  presently  said. 

He  explained  that  the  trees  had  deceived  her  as  to 
the  real  height,  by  reason  of  her  seeing  the  slope  fore- 
shortened when  she  looked  up  from  the  castle.  '  Allow 
me  to  help  you,'  he  added. 

'  No,  thank  you,'  said  Paula  lightly ;  '  we  must  be 
near  the  top.' 

They  went  on  again ;  but  no  Konigsstuhl.  When 
next  De  Stancy  turned  he  found  that  she  was  sitting 
down ;  immediately  going  back  he  offered  his  arm. 
She  took  it  in  silence,  declaring  that  it  was  no  wonder 
her  uncle  did  not  come  that  wearisome  way,  if  he  had 
ever  been  there  before. 

De  Stancy  did  not  explain  that  Mr.  Power  had  said 
to  him  at  parting,  '  There's  a  chance  for  you,  if  you 
want  one,'  but  at  once  went  on  with  the  subject  begun 
on  the  terrace.  '  If  my  behaviour  is  good,  you  will 
reaffirm  the  statement  made  at  Carlsruhe  ? ' 

'  It  is  not  fair  to  begin  that  now ! '  expostulated 
Paula ;  '  I  can  only  think  of  getting  to  the  top.' 

Her  colour  deepening  by  the  exertion,  he  suggested 
that  she  should  sit  down  again  on  one  of  the  mossy 
boulders  by  the  wayside.  Nothing  loth  she  did,  De 
Stancy  standing  by,  and  with  his  cane  scratching  the 
moss  from  the  stone. 

387 


A   LAODICEAN 

'This  is  rather  awkward,'  said  Paula,  in  her  usual 
circumspect  way.  '  My  relatives  and  your  sister  will 
be  sure  to  suspect  me  of  having  arranged  this  scramble 
with  you.' 

'  But  I  know  better,'  sighed  De  Stancy.  '  I  wish  to 
Heaven  you  had  arranged  it ! ' 

She  was  not  at  the  top,  but  she  took  advantage 
of  the  halt  to  answer  his  previous  question.  '  There 
are  many  points  on  which  I  must  be  satisfied  before 
I  can  reaffirm  anything.  Do  you  not  see  that  you 
are  mistaken  in  clinging  to  this  idea?  —  that  you 
are  laying  up  mortification  and  disappointment  for  your- 
self?' 

'  A  negative  reply  from  you  would  be  disappointment, 
early  or  late.' 

'  And  you  prefer  having  it  late  to  accepting  it  now  ? 
If  I  were  a  man,  I  should  like  to  abandon  a  false  scent 
as  soon  as  possible.' 

'  I  suppose  all  that  has  but  one  meaning :  that  I 
am  to  go.' 

'  O  no,'  she  magnanimously  assured  him,  bounding 
up  from  her  seat ;  '  I  adhere  to  my  statement  that  you 
may  stay ;  though  it  is  true  something  may  possibly 
happen  to  make  me  alter  my  mind.' 

He  again  offered  his  arm,  and  from  sheer  necessity 
she  leant  upon  it  as  before. 

'  Grant  me  but  a  moment's  patience,'  he  began. 

'  Captain  De  Stancy  !  Is  this  fair  ?  I  am  physically 
obliged  to  hold  your  arm,  so  that  I  must  listen  to  what 
you  say ! ' 

'  No,  it  is  not  fair ;  'pon  my  soul  it  is  not ! '  said  De 
Stancy.      '  I  won't  say  another  word.' 

He  did  not ;  and  they  clambered  on  through  the 
boughs,  nothing  disturbing  the  solitude  but  the  rustle 
of  their  own  footsteps  and  the  singing  of  birds  overhead. 
They  occasionally  got  a  peep  at  the  sky ;  and  whenever 
a  twig  hung  out  in  a  position  to  strike  Paula's  face  the 

388 


DE   STANCY  AND   PAULA 

gallant  captain  bent  it  aside  with  his  stick.  But  she  did 
not  thank  him.  Perhaps  he  was  just  as  well  satisfied 
as  if  she  had  done  so. 

Paula,  panting,  broke  the  silence  :  '  Will  you  go  on, 
and  discover  if  the  top  is  near  ?  ' 

He  went  on.  This  time  the  top  was  near.  When 
he  returned  she  was  sitting  where  he  had  left  her  among 
the  leaves.  '  It  is  quite  near  now,'  he  told  her  tenderly, 
and  she  took  his  arm  again  without  a  word.  Soon  the 
path  changed  its  nature  from  a  steep  and  rugged  water- 
course to  a  level  green  promenade. 

'Thank  you.  Captain  De  Stancy,'  she  said,  letting 
go  his  arm  as  if  relieved. 

Before  them  rose  the  tower,  and  at  the  base  they 
beheld  two  of  their  friends,  Mr.  Power  being  seen  above, 
looking  over  the  parapet  through  his  glass. 

'  You  will  go  to  the  top  now  ?  '  said  De  Stancy. 

'  No,  I  take  no  interest  in  it.  My  interest  has  turned 
to  fatigue.     I  only  want  to  go  home.' 

He  took  her  on  to  where  the  carriage  stood  at  the 
foot  of  the  tower,  and  leaving  her  with  his  sister  as- 
cended the  turret  to  the  top.  The  landscape  had  quite 
changed  from  its  afternoon  appearance,  and  had  become 
rather  marvellous  than  beautiful.  The  air  was  charged 
with  a  lurid  exhalation  that  blurred  the  extensive  view. 
He  could  see  the  distant  Rhine  at  its  junction  with  the 
Neckar,  shining  like  a  thread  of  blood  through  the 
mist  which  was  gradually  wrapping  up  the  declining 
sun.  The  scene  had  in  it  something  that  was  more 
than  melancholy,  and  not  much  less  than  tragic;  but 
for  De  Stancy  such  evening  effects  possessed  Httle 
meaning.  He  was  engaged  in  an  enterprise  that  taxed 
all  his  resources,  and  had  no  sentiments  to  spare  for  air, 
earth,  or  skies. 

'  Remarkable  scene,'  said  Power,  mildly,  at  his  elbow. 

'  Yes ;  I  dare  say  it  is,'  said  De  Stancy.  '  Time  has 
been  when  I  should  have  held  forth  upon  such  a  pros- 

389 


A   LAODICEAN 

pect,  and  wondered  if  its  livid  colours  shadowed  out  my 
own  life,  et  caetera,  et  ccetera.  But,  begad,  I  have 
almost  forgotten  there's  such  a  thing  as  Nature,  and  I 
care  for  nothing  but  a  comfortable  life,  and  a  certain 
woman  who  does  not  care  for  me !  .  .  .  Now  shall  we 
go  down  ? ' 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 


VIII 

It  was  quite  true  that  De  Stancy  at  the  present  period 
of  his  existence  wished  only  to  escape  from  the  hurly- 
burly  of  active  life,  and  to  win  the  affection  of  Paula 
Power.  There  were,  however,  occasions  when  a  recol- 
lection of  his  old  renunciatory  vows  would  obtrude  itself 
upon  him,  and  tinge  his  present  with  wayward  bitterness. 
So  much  was  this  the  case  that  a  day  or  two  after  they 
had  arrived  at  Mainz  he  could  not  refrain  from  making 
remarks  almost  prejudicial  to  his  cause,  saying  to  her, 
'  I  am  unfortunate  in  my  situation.  There  are,  un- 
happily, worldly  reasons  why  I  should  pretend  to  love 
you,  even  if  I  do  not :  they  are  so  strong  that,  though 
really  loving  you,  perhaps  they  enter  into  my  thoughts 
of  you.' 

'  I  don't  want  to  know  what  such  reasons  arc,'  said 
Paula,  with  promptness,  for  it  required  but  little  astute- 
ness to  discover  that  he  alluded  to  the  alienated  Wessex 
home  and  estates.  '  You  lack  tone,'  she  gently  added  : 
'  that's  why  the  situation  of  affairs  seems  distasteful 
to  you.' 

'  Yes,  I  suppose  I  am  ill.  And  yet  I  am  well 
enough.' 

These  remarks  passed  under  a  tree  in  the  public 
gardens  during  an  odd  minute  of  waiting  for  Charlotte 
and  Mrs.  Goodman ;  and  he  said  no  more  to  her  in 

391 


A  LAODICEAN 

private  that  day.  Few  as  her  words  had  been  he  liked 
them  better  than  any  he  had  lately  received.  The 
conversation  was  not  resumed  till  they  were  gliding 
'  between  the  banks  that  bear  the  vine,'  on  board 
one  of  the  Rhine  steamboats,  which,  like  the  hotels  in 
this  early  summer  time,  were  comparatively  free  from 
other  English  travellers ;  so  that  everywhere  Paula  and 
her  party  were  received  with  open  arms  and  cheer- 
ful countenances,  as  among  the  first  swallows  of  the 
season. 

The  saloon  of  the  steamboat  was  quite  empty,  the 
few  passengers  being  outside;  and  this  paucity  of 
voyagers  afforded  De  Stancy  a  roomy  opportunity. 

Paula  saw  him  approach  her,  and  there  appearing  in 
his  face  signs  that  he  would  begin  again  on  the  eternal 
subject,  she  seemed  to  be  struck  with  a  sense  of  the 
ludicrous. 

De  Stancy  reddened.  '  Something  seems  to  amuse 
you,'  he  said. 

'  It  is  over,'  she  replied,  becoming  serious. 

'  Was  it  about  me,  and  this  unhappy  fever  in  me  ? ' 

'  If  I  speak  the  truth  I  must  say  it  was.' 

'  You  thought,  "  Here's  that  absurd  man  again,  going 
to  begin  his  daily  supplication." ' 

'  Not  "  absurd,"  '  she  said,  with  emphasis ;  '  because  I 
don't  think  it  is  absurd.' 

She  continued  looking  through  the  windows  at  the 
Lurlei  Heights  under  which  they  were  now  passing,  and 
he  remained  with  his  eyes  on  her. 

'  May  I  stay  here  with  you  ? '  he  said  at  last.  '  I 
have  not  had  a  word  with  you  alone  for  four-and-twenty 
hours.' 

'  You  must  be  cheerful,  then.' 

'  You  have  said  such  as  that  before.  I  wish  you 
would  say  "  loving  "  instead  of  "  cheerful."  ' 

'Yes,  I  know,  I  know,'  she  responded,  with  im- 
patient perplexity.     '  But  why  must  you  think  of  me — 

392 


DE   STANCY  AND   PAULA 

me  only  ?  Is  there  no  other  woman  in  the  world  who 
has  the  power  to  make  you  happy  ?  I  am  sure  there 
must  be.' 

*  Perhaps  there  is  ;  but  I  have  never  seen  her.' 

'  Then  look  for  her ;  and  believe  me  when  I  say  that 
you  vnll  certainly  find  her.' 

He  shook  his  head. 

'  Captain  De  Stancy,  I  have  long  felt  for  you,'  she 
continued,  with  a  frank  glance  into  his  face.  '  You  have 
deprived  yourself  too  long  of  other  women's  company. 
Why  not  go  away  for  a  little  time  ?  and  when  you  have 
found  somebody  else  likely  to  make  you  happy,  you  can 
meet  me  again.  I  will  see  you  at  your  father's  house, 
and  we  will  enjoy  all  the  pleasure  of  easy  friendship.' 

'  Very  correct ;  and  very  cold,  O  best  of  women  ! ' 

'You  are  too  full  of  exclamations  and  transports,  I 
think ! ' 

They  stood  in  silence,  Paula  apparently  much  in- 
terested in  the  manoeuvring  of  a  raft  which  was  passing 
by.  '  Dear  Miss  Power,'  he  resumed,  '  before  I  go  and 
join  your  uncle  above,  let  me  just  ask.  Do  I  stand  any 
chance  at  all  yet?  Is  it  possible  you  can  never  be 
more  pliant  than  you  have  been  ?  ' 

'  You  put  me  out  of  all  patience  ! ' 

'  But  why  did  you  raise  my  hopes  ?  You  should  at 
least  pity  me  after  doing  that.' 

*  Yes  ;  it's  that  again  !  I  unfortunately  raised  your 
hopes  because  I  was  a  fool — was  not  myself  that 
moment.  Now  question  me  no  more.  As  it  is  I  think 
you  presume  too  much  upon  my  becoming  yours  as  the 
consequence  of  my  having  dismissed  another.' 

'  Not  on  becoming  mine,  but  on  listening  to  me.' 
'  Your  argument  would  be  reasonable  enough  had  I 
led  you  to  believe  I  would  listen  to  you — and  ultimately 
accept  you ;  but  that  I  have  not  done.  I  see  now  that 
a  woman  who  gives  a  man  an  answer  one  shade  less 
peremptory  than  a  harsh  negative  may  be  carried  beyond 

393 


A   LAODICEAN 

her  intentions,  and  out  of  her  own  power  before  she 
knows  it.' 

'  Chicle  me  if  you  will ;  I  don't  care  ! ' 

She  looked  steadfastly  at  him  with  a  little  mischief 
in  her  eyes.     '  You  do  care,'  she  said. 

'  Then  why  don't  you  listen  to  me  ?  I  would  not 
persevere  for  a  moment  longer  if  it  were  against  the 
wishes  of  your  family.  Your  uncle  says  it  would  give 
him  pleasure  to  see  you  accept  me.' 

'  Does  he  say  why  ?  '  she  asked  thoughtfully. 

'  Yes  ;  he  takes,  of  course,  a  practical  view  of  the 
matter;  he  thinks  it  commends  itself  so  to  reason  and 
common  sense  that  the  owner  of  Stancy  Castle  should 
become  a  member  of  the  De  Stancy  family.' 

'Yes,  that's  the  horrid  plague  of  it,'  she  said,  with 
a  nonchalance  v/hich  seemed  to  contradict  her  words. 
'  It  is  so  dreadfully  reasonable  that  we  should  marry.  I 
wish  it  wasn't ! ' 

'  Well,  you  are  younger  than  I,  and  perhaps  that's  a 
natural  wish.  But  to  me  it  seems  a  felicitous  combina- 
tion not  often  met  with.  I  confess  that  your  interest 
in  our  family  before  you  knew  me  lent  a  stability  to  my 
hopes  that  otherwise  they  would  not  have  had.' 

'  My  interest  in  the  De  Stancys  has  not  been  a  per- 
sonal interest  except  in  the  case  of  your  sister,'  she 
returned.  '  It  has  been  an  historical  interest  only ;  and 
is  not  at  all  increased  by  your  existence.' 

'  And  perhaps  it  is  not  diminished  ?  ' 

'  No,  I  am  not  aware  that  it  is  diminished,'  she  mur- 
mured, as  she  observed  the  gliding  shore. 

'  Well,  you  will  allow  me  to  say  this,  since  I  say  it 
without  reference  to  your  personality  or  to  mine — that 
the  Power  and  De  Stancy  families  are  the  complements 
to  each  other ;  and  that,  abstractedly,  they  call  earnestly 
to  one  another  :  '■'■  How  neat  and  fit  a  thing  for  us  to 
join  hands  !  "  ' 

Paula,  who  was  not  prudish  when  a  direct  appeal 

394 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

was  made  to  her  common  sense,  answered  with  ready 
candour :  '  Yes,  from  the  point  of  view  of  domestic 
politics,  that  undoubtedly  is  the  case.  But  I  hope  I 
am  not  so  calculating  as  to  risk  happiness  in  order  to 
round  off  a  social  idea.' 

'  I  hope  not ;  or  that  I  am  either.  Still  the  social 
idea  exists,  and  my  increased  years  make  its  excellence 
more  obvious  to  me  than  to  you.' 

The  ice  once  broken  on  this  aspect  of  the  question, 
the  subject  seemed  further  to  engross  her,  and  she  spoke 
on  as  if  daringly  inclined  to  venture  where  she  had 
never  anticipated  going,  deriving  pleasure  from  the  very 
strangeness  of  her  temerity :  '  You  mean  that  in  the 
fitness  of  things  I  ought  to  become  a  De  Stancy  to 
strengthen  my  social  position  ?  ' 

*  And  that  I  ought  to  strengthen  mine  by  alliance 
with  the  heiress  of  a  name  so  dear  to  engineering  science 
as  Power.' 

'  Well,  we  are  talking  with  unexpected  frankness.' 

*  But  you  are  not  seriously  displeased  with  me  for 
saying  what,  after  all,  one  can't  help  feeling  and 
thinkinsc  ? ' 

'  No.  Only  be  so  good  as  to  leave  off  going  further 
for  the  present.  Indeed,  of  the  two,  I  would  rather 
have  the  other  sort  of  address.  I  mean,'  she  hastily 
added,  '  that  what  you  urge  as  the  result  of  a  real  affec- 
tion, however  unsuitable,  I  have  some  remote  satisfaction 
in  listening  to — not  the  least  from  any  reciprocal  love 
on  my  side,  but  from  a  woman's  gratification  at  being 
the  object  of  anybody's  devotion  ;  for  that  feeling  to- 
wards her  is  always  regarded  as  a  merit  in  a  woman's 
eye,  and  taken  as  a  kindness  by  her,  even  when  it  is 
at  the  expense  of  her  convenience.' 

She  had  said,  voluntarily  or  involuntarily,  l^etter 
things  than  he  expected,  and  perhaps  too  much  in  her 
own  opinion,  for  she  hardly  gave  him  an  opportunity 
of  replying. 

395 


A   LAODICEAN 

They  passed  St.  Goar  and  Boppard,  and  when  steer- 
ing round  the  sharp  bend  of  the  river  just  beyond  the 
latter  place  De  Stancy  met  her  again,  exclaiming,  '  You 
left  me  very  suddenly.' 

'  You  must  make  allowances,  please,'  she  said ;  '  I 
have  always  stood  in  need  of  them.' 

'  Then  you  shall  always  have  them.' 

'I  don't  doubt  it,'  she  said  quickly;  but  Paula  was 
not  to  be  caught  again,  and  kept  close  to  the  side  of 
her  aunt  while  they  glided  past  Brauback  and  Ober- 
lahnstein.  Approaching  Coblenz  her  aunt  said,  '  Paula, 
let  me  suggest  that  you  be  not  so  much  alone  with 
Captain  De  Stancy.' 

'  And  why  ?  '  said  Paula  qiaietly. 

'  You'll  have  plenty  of  offers  if  you  want  them, 
without  taking  trouble,'  said  the  direct  Mrs.  Goodman. 
'  Your  existence  is  hardly  known  to  the  world  yet,  and 
Captain  De  Stancy  is  too  near  middle-age  for  a  girl  like 
you.'  Paula  did  not  reply  to  either  of  these  remarks, 
being  seemingly  so  interested  in  Ehrenbreitstein's  heights 
as  not  to  hear  them. 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 


IX 


It  was  midnight  at  Coblenz,  and  the  travellers  had 
retired  to  rest  in  their  respective  apartments,  over- 
looking the  river.  Finding  that  there  was  a  moon 
shinins:,  Paula  leant  out  of  her  window.  The  tall 
rock  of  Ehrenbreitstein  on  the  opposite  shore  was 
flooded  with  light,  and  a  belated  steamer  was  drawing 
up  to  the  landing-stage,  where  it  presently  deposited 
its  passengers. 

'  We  should  have  come  by  the  last  boat,  so  as  to 
have  been  touched  into  romance  by  the  rays  of  this 
moon,  like  those  happy  people,'  said  a  voice. 

She  looked  towards  the  spot  whence  the  voice 
proceeded,  which  was  a  window  quite  near  at  hand. 
De  Stancy  was  smoking  outside  it,  and  she  became 
aware  that  the  words  were  addressed  to  her. 

*  You  left  me  very  abruptly,'  he  continued. 

Paula's  instinct  of  caution  impelled  her  to  speak. 
'  The  windows  are  all  open,'  she  murmured.  '  Please 
be  careful.' 

'  There  are  no  English  in  this  hotel  except  ourselves. 
I  thank  you  for  what  you  said  to-day.' 

'  Please  be  careful,'  she  repeated. 

'  My  dear  Miss  P ' 

'  Don't  mention  names,  and  don't  continue  the 
subject ! ' 

397 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  Life  and  death  perhaps  depend  upon  my  renewing 
it  soon ! ' 

She  shut  the  window  decisively,  possibly  wondering 
if  De  Stancy  had  drunk  a  glass  or  two  of  Steinberg  more 
than  was  good  for  him,  and  saw  no  more  of  moonlit 
Ehrenbreitstein  that  night,  and  heard  no  more  of  De 
Stancy.  But  it  was  some  time  before  he  closed  his 
window,  and  previous  to  doing  so  saw  a  dark  form  at 
an  adjoining  one  on  the  other  side. 

It  was  Mr.  Power,  also  taking  the  air. 

'  Well,  what  luck  to-day  ?  '  said  Power. 

'  A  decided  advance,'  said  De  Stancy. 

None  of  the  speakers  knew  that  a  little  person  in 
the  room  above  heard  all  this  out-of-window  talk. 
Charlotte,  though  not  looking  out,  had  left  her  case- 
ment open  ;  and  what  reached  her  ears  set  her  wondering 
as  to  the  result. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  detail  in  full  De  Stancy's 
imperceptible  advances  with  Paula  during  that  north- 
ward journey — so  slowly  performed  that  it  seemed  as  if 
she  must  perceive  there  was  a  special  reason  for  de- 
laying her  return  to  England.  At  Cologne  one  day  he 
conveniently  overtook  her  when  she  was  ascending  the 
hotel  staircase.  Seeing  him,  she  went  to  the  window 
of  the  entresol  landing;,  which  commanded  a  view  of 
the  Rhine,  meaning  that  he  should  pass  by  to  his 
room. 

'  I  have  been  very  uneasy,'  began  the  captain,  draw- 
ing up  to  her  side ;  '  and  I  am  obliged  to  trouble  you 
sooner  than  I  meant  to  do.' 

Paula  turned  her  eyes  upon  him  with  some  curiosity 
as  to  what  was  coming  of  this  respectful  demeanour. 
'  Indeed  ! '  she  said. 

He  then  informed  her  that  he  had  been  overhauling 
himself  since  they  last  talked,  and  had  some  reason 
to  blame  himself  for  bluntness  and  general  want  of 
euphemism ;  which,  although  he  had  meant  nothing  by 

398 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

it,  must  have  been  very  disagreeable  to  her.  But  he  had 
always  aimed  at  sincerity,  particularly  as  he  had  to  deal 
with  a  lady  who  despised  hypocrisy  and  w'as  above 
flattery.  However,  he  feared  he  might  have  carried 
his  disregard  for  conventionality  foo  far.  But  from 
that  time  he  would  promise  that  she  should  find  an 
alteration  by  which  he  hoped  he  might  return  the 
friendship  at  least  of  a  young  lady  he  honoured  more 
than  any  other  in  the  world. 

This  retrograde  movement  was  evidently  unexpected 
by  the  honoured  young  lady  herself.  After  being  so 
long  accustomed  to  rebuke  him  for  his  persistence 
there  was  novelty  in  finding  him  do  the  work  for  her. 
The  guess  might  even  have  been  hazarded  that  there 
was  also  disappointment. 

Still  looking  across  the  river  at  the  bridge  of 
boats  which  stretched  to  the  opposite  suburb  of 
Deutz  :  '  You  need  not  blame  yourself,'  she  said,  with 
the  mildest  conceivable  manner,  '  I  can  make  allow- 
ances. •  All  I  wish  is  that  you  should  remain  under  no 
misapprehension. 

'  I  comprehend,'  he  said  thoughtfully.  '  But  since, 
by  a  peiTerse  fate,  I  have  been  thrown  into  your 
company,  you  could  hardly  expect  me  to  feel  and  act 
otherwise.' 

'  Perhaps  not.' 

*  Since  I  have  so  much  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with 
myself,'  he  added,  '  I  cannot  refrain  from  criticizing 
elsewhere  to  a  slight  extent,  and  thinking  I  have  to 
do  with  an  ungenerous  person.' 

'  Why  ungenerous  ?  ' 

'  In  this  way  ;  that  since  you  cannot  love  me,  you 
see  no  reason  at  all  for  trying  to  do  so  in  the  fact  that 
I  so  deeply  love  you  ;  hence  I  say  that  you  are  rather 
to  be  distinguished  by  your  wisdom  than  by  yonr 
humanity.' 

'  It  comes  to  this,  that  if  your  words  arc  all  seriously 

399 


A   LAODICEAN 

meant  it  is  much  to  be  regretted  we  ever  met,'  she 
murmured.  '  Now  will  you  go  on  to  where  you  were 
going,  and  leave  me  here  ?  ' 

Without  a  remonstrance  he  went  on,  saying-  with  de- 
jected whimsicality  as  he  smiled  back  upon  her,  '  You 
show  a  wisdom  which  for  so  young  a  lady  is  perfectly 
surprising.' 

It  was  resolved  to  prolong  the  journey  by  a  circuit 
through  Holland  and  Belgium ;  but  nothing  changed  in 
the  attitudes  of  Paula  and  Captain  De  Stancy  till  one 
afternoon  during  their  stay  at  the  Hague,  when  they  had 
gone  for  a  drive  down  to  Scheveningen  by  the  long  straight 
avenue  of  chestnuts  and  limes,  under  whose  boughs  tufts 
of  wild  parsley  waved  their  flowers,  except  where  the 
buitenp/aatseft  of  retired  merchants  blazed  forth  with  new 
paint  of  every  hue.  On  mounting  the  dune  which  kept 
out  the  sea  behind  the  village  a  brisk  breeze  greeted 
their  faces,  and  a  fine  sand  blew  up  into  their  eyes.  De 
Stancy  screened  Paula  with  his  umbrella  as  they  stood 
with  their  backs  to  the  wind,  looking  down  on  the  red 
roofs  of  the  village  within  the  sea  wall,  and  pulling  at 
the  long  grass  which  by  some  means  found  nourishment 
in  the  powdery  soil  of  the  dune. 

When  they  had  discussed  the  scene  he  continued, 
'  It  always  seems  to  me  that  this  place  reflects  the 
average  mood  of  human  life.  I  mean,  if  we  strike  the 
balance  between  our  best  moods  and  our  worst  we  shall 
find  our  average  condition  to  stand  at  about  the  same 
pitch  in  emotional  colour  as  these  sandy  dunes  and 
this  grey  scene  do  in  landscape.' 

Paula  contended  that  he  ought  not  to  measure  every- 
body by  himself. 

'  I  have  no  other  standard,'  said  De  Stancy ;  '  and  if 
my  own  is  wrong,  it  is  you  who  have  made  it  so.  Have 
you  thought  any  more  of  what  I  said  at  Cologne  ? ' 

'  I  don't  quite  remember  what  you  did  say  at 
Cologne  ? ' 

400 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 


'  My  dearest  life ! '  Paula's  eyes  rounding  some- 
what, he  corrected  the  exclamation.  '  My  dear  Miss 
Power,  I  will,  without   reserve,  tell  it  to  you  all  over 


agani. 


Pray  spare  yourself  the  effort,'  she  said  drily.  '  What 
has  that  one  fatal  step  betrayed  me  into  !  .  .  .  Do  you 
seriously  mean  to  say  that  I  am  the  cause  of  your  life 
being  coloured  like  this  scene  of  grass  and  sand  ?  If 
so,  I  have  committed  a  very  great  fault ! ' 

'  It  can  be  nullified  by  a  word.' 

'  Such  a  word  ! ' 

'  It  is  a  very  short  one.' 

'  There's  a  still  shorter  one  more  to  the  purpose. 
Frankly,  I  believe  you  suspect  me  to  have  some  latent 
and  unowned  inclination  for  you — that  you  think  speak- 
ing is  the  only  point  upon  which  I  am  backward.  .  .  . 
There  now,  it  is  raining ;  what  shall  we  do  ?  I  thought 
this  wind  meant  rain.' 

'  Do  ?     Stand  on  here,  as  we  are  standing  now.' 

'  Your  sister  and  my  aunt  are  gone  under  the  wall. 
I  think  we  will  walk  towards  them.' 

'  You  had  made  me  hope,'  he  continued  (his  thoughts 
apparently  far  away  from  the  rain  and  the  wind  and 
the  possibility  of  shelter),  '  that  you  might  change  your 
mind,  and  give  to  your  original  promise  a  liberal  mean- 
ing in  renewing  it.  In  brief  I  mean  this,  that  you 
would  allow  it  to  merge  into  an  engagement.  Don't 
think  it  presumptuous,'  he  went  on,  as  he  held  the 
umbrella  over  her ;  '  I  am  sure  any  man  would  speak 
as  I  do.  A  distinct  permission  to  be  with  you  on 
probation — that  was  what  you  ;i;ave  me  at  Carlsruhe  : 
and  flinging  casuistry  on  one  side,  what  docs  that 
mean  ? ' 

'  That  I  am  artistically  interested  in  your  family 
history.'  And  she  went  out  from  the  umbrella  to 
the  shelter  of  the  hotel  where  she  found  her  aunt 
and  friend. 

401  2  c 


A   LAODICEAN 

De  Stancy  could  not  but  feel  that  his  persistence 
had  made  some  impression.  It  was  hardly  possible 
that  a  woman  of  independent  nature  would  have 
tolerated  his  dangling  at  her  side  so  long,  if  his 
presence  were  wholly  distasteful  to  her.  That  evening 
when  driving  back  to  the  Hague  by  a  devious  route 
through  the  dense  avenues  of  the  Bosch  he  conversed 
with  her  again;  also  the  next  day  when  standing  by 
the  Vijver  looking  at  the  swans  ;  and  in  each  case  she 
seemed  to  have  at  least  got  over  her  objection  to  being 
seen  talking  to  him,  apart  from  the  remainder  of  the 
travelling  party. 

Scenes  very  similar  to  those  at  Scheveningen  and 
on  the  Rhine  were  enacted  at  later  stages  of  their 
desultory  journey.  Mr.  Power  had  proposed  to  cross 
from  Rotterdam ;  but  a  stiff  north-westerly  breeze  pre- 
vailing Paula  herself  became  reluctant  to  hasten  back  to 
Stancy  Castle.     Turning  abruptly  they  made  for  Brussels. 

It  was  here,  while  walking  homeward  from  the  Park 
one  morning,  that  her  uncle  for  the  first  time  alluded 
to  the  situation  of  affairs  between  herself  and  her 
admirer.  The  captain  had  gone  up  the  Rue  Royale 
with  his  sister  and  Mrs.  Goodman,  either  to  show  them 
the  house  in  which  the  ball  took  place  on  the  eve  of 
Quatre  Bras  or  some  other  site  of  interest,  and  the 
two  Powers  were  thus  left  to  themselves.  To  reach 
their  hotel  they  passed  into  a  little  street  sloping  steeply 
down  from  the  Rue  Royale  to  the  Place  Ste.  Gudule, 
where,  at  the  moment  of  nearing  the  cathedral,  a 
wedding  party  emerged  from  the  porch  and  crossed 
in  front  of  uncle  and  niece. 

'  I  hope,'  said  the  former,  in  his  passionless  way, 
*we  shall  see  a  performance  of  this  sort  between  you 
and  Captain  De  Stancy,  not  so  very  long  after  our 
return  to  England.' 

'  Why  ? '  asked  Paula,  following  the  bride  with  her 
eyes. 

402 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

'  It  is  diplomatically,  as  I  may  say,  such  a  highly 
correct  thing — such  an  expedient  thing — such  an  ob- 
vious thing  to  all  eyes.' 

'  Not  altogether  to  mine,  uncle^'  she  returned. 

'  'Twould  be  a  thousand  pities  to  let  slip  such  a  neat 
offer  of  adjusting  difficulties  as  accident  makes  you  in 
this.  You  could  marry  more  tin,  that's  true;  but  you 
don't  want  it,  Paula.  You  want  a  name,  and  historic 
what-do-they-call-it.  Now  by  coming  to  terms  with  the 
captain  you'll  be  I^ady  De  Stancy  in  a  few  years  :  and 
a  title  which  is  useless  to  him,  and  a  fortune  and  castle 
which  are  in  some  degree  useless  to  you,  will  make  a 
splendid  whole  useful  to  you  both.' 

'  I've  thought  it  over — quite,'  she  answered.  '  And 
I  quite  see  what  the  advantages  are.  But  how  if  I 
don't  care  one  atom  for  artistic  completeness  and  a 
splendid  whole ;  and  do  care  very  much  to  do  what 
my  fancy  inclines  me  to  do  ? ' 

'  Then  I  should  say  that,  taking  a  comprehensive 
view  of  human  nature  of  all  -colours,  your  fancy  is  about 
the  silliest  fancy  existing  on  this  earthly  ball.' 

Paula  laughed  indifferently,  and  her  uncle  felt  that, 
persistent  as  was  his  nature,  he  was  the  wrong  man  to 
influence  her  by  argument.  Paula's  blindness  to  the 
advantages  of  the  match,  if  she  were  blind,  was  that 
of  a  woman  who  wouldn't  see,  and  the  best  argument 
was  silence. 

This  was  in  some  measure  proved  the  next  morning. 
When  Paula  made  her  appearance  Mrs.  Goodman  said, 
holding  up  an  envelope :  '  Here's  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Somerset.' 

'  Dear  me,'  said  she  blandly,  though  a  quick  little 
flush  ascended  her  cheek.  '  I  had  nearly  forgotten 
him!' 

The  letter  on  being  read  contained  a  request  as 
brief  as  it  was  unexpected.  Having  prepared  all  the 
drawings  necessary  for  the  rebuilding,  Somerset  begged 

403 


A   LAODICEAN 

leave  to  resign  the  superintendence  of  the  work  into 
other  hands. 

'  His  letter  caps  your  remarks  very  aptly,'  said  Mrs. 
Goodman,  with  secret  triumph.  '  You  are  nearly  for- 
getting him,  and  he  is  quite  forgetting  you.' 

'  Yes,'  said  Paula,  affecting  carelessness.  Well,  I 
must  get  somebody  else,  I  suppose.' 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 


X 

i  HEY  next  deviated  to  Amiens,  intending  to  stay 
there  only  one  night ;  but  their  schemes  were  deranged 
by  the  sudden  illness  of  Charlotte.  She  had  been 
looking  unwell  for  a  fortnight  past,  though,  with  her 
usual  self-abnegation,  she  had  made  light  of  her  ailment. 
Even  now  she  declared  she  could  go  on ;  but  this  was 
said  over-night,  and  in  the  morning  it  was  abundantly 
evident  that  to  move  her  was  highly  unadvisable.  Still 
she  was  not  in  serious  danger,  and  having  called  in  a 
physician,  who  pronounced  rest  indispensable,  they  pre- 
pared to  remain  in  the  old  Picard  capital  two  or  three 
additional  days.  Mr.  Power  thought  he  would  take 
advantage  of  the  halt  to  run  up  to  Paris,  leaving  De 
Stancy  in  charge  of  the  ladies. 

In  more  ways  than  in  the  illness  of  Charlotte  this 
day  was  the  harbinger  of  a  crisis. 

It  was  a  summer  evening  without  a  cloud.  Charlotte 
had  fallen  asleep  in  her  bed,  and  Paula,  who  had  been 
sitting  by  her,  looked  out  into  the  Place  St.  Denis, 
which  the  hotel  commanded.  The  lawn  of  the  square 
was  all  ablaze  with  red  and  yellow  clumps  of  flowers, 
the  acacia  trees  were  brightly  green,  the  sun  was  soft 
and  low.  Tempted  by  the  prospect  Paula  went  and 
put  on  her  hat ;  and  arousing  her  aunt,  who  was  nodding 
in   the    next    room,  to  request  her  to  keep  an  ear  on 

405 


A   LAODICEAN 

Charlotte's  bedroom,  Paula  descended  into  the  Rue  de 
Noyon  alone,  and  entered  the  green  enclosure. 

While  she  walked  round,  two  or  three  little  children 
in  charge  of  a  nurse  trundled  a  large  variegated  ball 
along  the  grass,  and  it  rolled  to  Paula's  feet.  She 
smiled  at  them,  and  endeavoured  to  return  it  by  a 
slight  kick.  The  ball  rose  in  the  air,  and  passing  over 
the  back  of  a  seat  which  stood  under  One  of  the  trees, 
alighted  in  the  lap  of  a  gentleman  hitherto  screened  by 
its  boughs.  The  back  and  shoulders  proved  to  be 
those  of  De  Stancy.  He  turned  his  head,  jumped  up, 
and  was  at  her  side  in  an  instant,  a  nettled  flush  having 
meanwhile  crossed  Paula's  face. 

'  I  thought  you  had  gone  to  the  Hotoie  Promenade,' 
she  said  hastily.  '  I  am  going  to  the  cathedral ; '  (obvi- 
ously uttered  lest  it  should  seem  that  she  had  seen  him 
from  the  hotel  windows,  and  entered  the  square  for  his 
company). 

'  Of  course  :  there  is  nothing  else  to  go  to  here — 
even  for  Roundheads.' 

'  If  you  mean  me  by  that,  you  are  very  much  mis- 
taken,' said  she  testily. 

'  The  Roundheads  were  your  ancestors,  and  they 
knocked  down  my  ancestors'  castle,  and  broke  the 
stained  glass  and  statuary  of  the  cathedral,'  said  De 
Stancy  slily ;  '  and  now  you  go  not  only  to  a  cathedral, 
but  to  a  service  of  the  unreformed  Church  in  it.' 

'  In  a  foreign  country  it  is  different  from  home,'  said 
Paula  in  extenuation  ;  '  and  you  of  all  men  should  not  re- 
proach me  for  tergiversation — when  it  has  been  brought 
about  by — by  my  sympathies  with ' 

'  With  the  troubles  of  the  De  Stancys.' 

'Well,  you  know  what  I  mean,'  she  answered,  with 
considerable  anxiety  not  to  be  misunderstood ;  *  my 
liking  for  the  old  castle,  and  what  it  contains,  and 
what  it  suggests.  I  declare  I  will  not  explain  to  you 
further — why  should  I  ?     I  am  not  answerable  to  you  ! ' 

406 


DE    STANCY   AND    PAULA 

Paula's  show  of  petulance  was  perhaps  not  wholly 
because  she  had  appeared  to  seek  him,  but  also  from 
being  reminded  by  his  criticism  that  Mr.  Woodwell's 
prophecy  on  her  weakly  succumbing  to  surroundings 
was  slowly  working  out  its  fulfilment. 

She  moved  forward  towards  the  gate  at  the  further 
end  of  the  square,  beyond  which  the  cathedral  lay  at 
a  very  short  distance.  Paula  did  not  turn  her  head, 
and  De  Stancy  strolled  slowly  after  her  down  the  Rue 
du  College.  The  day  happened  to  be  one  of  the 
church  festivals,  and  people  were  a  second  time  flocking 
into  the  lofty  monument  of  Catholicism  at  its  meridian. 
I'aula  vanished  into  the  porch  with  the  rest ;  and, 
almost  catching  the  wicket  as  it  flew  back  from  her 
hand,  he  too  entered  the  high-shouldered  edifice — an 
edifice  doomed  to  labour  under  the  melancholy  mis- 
fortune of  seeming  only  half  as  vast  as  it  really  is, 
and  as  truly  as  whimsically  described  by  Heine  as  a 
monument  built  with  the  strength  of  Titans,  and 
decorated  with  the  patience  of  dwarfs. 

De  Stancy  walked  up  the  nave,  so  close  beside  her 
as  to  touch  her  dress ;  but  she  would  not  recognize 
his  presence ;  the  darkness  that  evening  had  thrown 
over  the  interior,  which  was  scarcely  broken  by  the  few 
candles  dotted  about,  being  a  sufficient  excuse  if  she 
required  one. 

'  Miss  Power,'  De  Stancy  said  at  last,  '  I  am  coming 
to  the  service  with  you,' 

She  received  the  intelligence  without  surprise,  and 
he  knew  she  had  been  conscious  of  him  all  the  way. 

Paula  went  no  further  than  the  middle  of  the  nave, 
where  there  was  hardly  a  soul,  and  took  a  chair  beside 
a  solitary  rushlight  which  looked  amid  the  vague  gloom 
of  the  inaccessible  architecture  like  a  lighthouse  at  the 
foot  of  tall  clifis. 

He  put  his  hand  on  the  next  chair,  saying,  '  Do  you 
object  ? ' 

407 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  Not  at  all,'  she  replied;  and  he  sat  down. 

'  Suppose  we  go  into  the  choir,'  said  De  Stancy 
presently.      '  Nobody  sits  out  here  in  the  shadows.' 

'  This  is  sufificiently  near,  and  we  have  a  candle,' 
Paula  murmured. 

Before  another  minute  had  passed  the  candle  flame 
began  to  drown  in  its  own  grease,  slowly  dwindled,  and 
went  out. 

'  I  suppose  that  means  I  am  to  go  into  the  choir 
in  spite  of  myself.  Heaven  is  on  your  side,'  said 
Paula.  And  rising  they  left  their  now  totally  dark 
corner,  and  joined  the  noiseless  shadowy  figures  who 
in  twos  and  threes  kept  passing  up  the  nave. 

Within  the  choir  there  was  a  blaze  of  light,  partly 
from  the  altar,  and  more  particularly  from  the  image  of 
the  saint  whom  they  had  assembled  to  honour,  which 
stood,  surrounded  by  candles  and  a  thicket  of  flower- 
ing plants,  some  way  in  advance  of  the  foot-pace.  A 
secondary  radiance  from  the  same  source  was  reflected 
upward  into  their  faces  by  the  polished  marble  pave- 
ment, except  when  interrupted  by  the  shady  forms  of 
the  officiating  priests. 

When  it  was  over  and  the  people  were  moving  off, 
De  Stancy  and  his  companion  went  towards  the  saint, 
now  besieged  by  numbers  of  women  anxious  to  claim 
the  respective  flower-pots  they  had  lent  for  the  decora- 
tion. As  each  struggled  for  her  own,  seized  and 
marched  off"  with  it,  Paula  remarked — '  This  rather 
spoils  the  solemn  effect  of  what  has  gone  before.' 

'  I  perceive  you  are  a  harsh  Puritan.' 

'  No,  Captain  De  Stancy  !  Why  will  you  speak  so  ? 
I  am  far  too  much  otherwise.  I  have  grown  to  be  so 
much  of  your  way  of  thinking,  that  I  accuse  myself, 
and  am  accused  by  others,  of  being  worldly,  and  half- 
and-half,  and  other  dreadful  things  —  though  it  isn't 
that  at  all.' 

They  were  now  walking  down  the  nave,  preceded  by 

408 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

the  sombre  figures  with  the  pot  flowers,  who  were  just 
visible  in  the  rays  that  reached  them  through  the  distant 
choir  screen  at  their  back  ;  while  above  the  grey  night 
sky  and  stars  looked  in  upon  them  through  the  high 
clerestory  windows. 

'  Do  be  a  little  more  of  my  way  of  thinking ! '  re- 
joined De  Stancy  passionately. 

'  Don't,  don't  speak,'  she  said  rapidly.  '  There  are 
Milly  and  Champreau  !  * 

Milly  was  one  of  the  maids,  and  Champreau  the 
courier  and  valet  who  had  been  engaged  by  Abner 
Power,  They  had  been  sitting  behind  the  other  pair 
throughout  the  service,  and  indeed  knew  rather  more 
of  the  relations  between  Paula  and  De  Stancy  than 
Paula  knew  herself 

Hastening  on  the  two  latter  went  out,  and  walked 
together  silently  up  the  short  street.  The  Place  St. 
Denis  was  now  lit  up,  lights  shone  from  the  hotel 
windows,  and  the  world  without  the  cathedral  had  so 
far  advanced  in  nocturnal  change  that  it  seemed  as  if 
they  had  been  gone  from  it  for  hours.  Within  the 
hotel  they  found  the  change  even  greater  than  without. 
!Mrs.  Goodman  met  them  half-way  on  the  stairs. 

'  Poor  Charlotte  is  worse,'  she  said.  '  Quite  feverish, 
and  almost  delirious.' 

Paula  reproached  herself  with  '  Why  did  I  go  away  ! ' 

The  common  interest  of  De  Stancy  and  Paula  in 
the  sufferer  at  once  reproduced  an  ease  between  them 
as  nothing  else  could  have  done.  The  physician  was 
again  called  in,  who  prescribed  certain  draughts,  and 
recommended  that  some  one  should  sit  up  with  her 
that  night  If  Paula  allowed  demonstrations  of  love  to 
escape  her  towards  anybody  it  was  towards  Charlotte, 
and  her  instinct  was  at  once  to  watch  by  the  invalid's 
couch  herself,  at  least  for  some  hours,  it  being  deemed 
unnecessary  to  call  in  a  regular  nurse  unless  she  should 
sicken  further. 

409 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  But  I  will  sit  with  her,'  said  De  Stancy.  '  Surely  you 
had  better  go  to  bed  ?  '  Paula  would  not  be  persuaded ; 
and  thereupon  De  Stancy,  saying  he  was  going  into  the 
town  for  a  short  time  before  retiring,  left  the  room. 

The  last  omnibus  returned  from  the  last  train,  and 
the  inmates  of  the  hotel  retired  to  rest.  Meanwhile 
a  telegram  had  arrived  for  Captain  De  Stancy ;  but  as 
he  had  not  yet  returned  it  was  put  in  his  bedroom, 
with  directions  to  the  night-porter  to  remind  him  of 
its  arrival. 

Paula  sat  on  with  the  sleeping  Charlotte.  Presently 
she  retired  into  the  adjacent  sitting-room  with  a  book, 
and  flung  herself  on  a  couch,  leaving  the  door  open 
between  her  and  her  charge,  in  case  the  latter  should 
awake.  While  she  sat  a  new  breathing  seemed  to 
mingle  with  the  regular  sound  of  Charlotte's  that  reached 
her  through  the  doorway :  she  turned  quickly,  and  saw 
her  uncle  standing  behind  her. 

'  O — I  thought  you  were  in  Paris  ! '  said  Paula. 

'  I  have  just  come  from  there— I  could  not  stay. 
Something  has  occurred  to  my  mind  about  this  affair.' 
His  strangely  marked  visage,  nov/  more  noticeable  from 
being  worn  with  fatigue,  had  a  spectral  effect  by  the 
night-light. 

'  What  affair  ?  ' 

'  This  marriage.  .  .  .  Paula,  De  Stancy  is  a  good 
fellow  enough,  but  you  must  not  accept  him  just  yet.' 

Paula  did  not  answer. 

'  Do  you  hear  ?  You  must  not  accept  him,'  repeated 
her  uncle,  '  till  I  have  been  to  England  and  examined 
into  matters.  I  start  in  an  hour's  time — by  the  ten- 
minutes-past-two  train.' 

'  This  is  something  very  new  ! ' 

'  Yes — 'tis  new,'  he  murmured,  relapsing  into  his 
Dutch  manner.  '  You  must  not  accept  him  till  some- 
thing is  made  clear  to  me — something  about  a  queer 
relationship.     I  have  come  from  Paris  to  say  so.' 

410 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

'  Uncle,  I  don't  understand  this.  I  am  my  own 
mistress  in  all  matters,  and  though  I  don't  mind  telling 
you  I  have  by  no  means  resolved  to  accept  him,  the 
question  of  her  marriage  is  especially  a  woman's  own 
affair.' 

Her  uncle  stood  irresolute  for  a  moment,  as  if  his 
convictions  were  more  than  his  proofs.  '  I  say  no 
more  at  present,'  he  murmured.  '  Can  I  do  anything 
for  you  about  a  new  architect  ? ' 

'  Appoint  Havill.' 

'Very  well.  Good  night.'  And  then  he  left  her. 
In  a  short  time  she  heard  him  go  down  and  out  of  the 
house  to  cross  to  England  by  the  morning  steamboat. 

With  a  little  shrug,  as  if  she  resented  his  interference 
in  so  delicate  a  point,  she  settled  herself  down  anew  to 
her  book. 

One,  two,  three  hours  passed,  when  Charlotte  awoke, 
but  soon  slumbered  sweetly  again.  Mvlly  had  stayed  up 
for  some  time  lest  her  mistress  should  require  anything ; 
but  the  girl  being  sleepy  Paula  sent  her  to  bed. 

It  was  a  lovely  night  of  early  summer,  and  drawing 
aside  the  window  curtains  she  looked  out  upon  the 
flowers  and  trees  of  the  Place,  now  quite  visible,  for 
it  was  nearly  three  o'clock,  and  the  morning  light 
was  growing  strong.  She  turned  her  face  upwards. 
Except  in  the  case  of  one  bedroom  all  the  v,indows 
on  that  side  of  the  hotel  were  in  darkness.  The  room 
being  rather  close  she  left  the  casement  ajar,  and 
opening  the  door  walked  out  upon  the  staircase 
landing.  A  number  of  caged  canaries  were  kept 
here,  and  she  observed  in  the  dim  light  of  the  land- 
ing lamp  how  snugly  their  heads  were  all  tucked  in. 
On  returning  to  the  sitting-roam  again  she  could  hear 
that  Charlotte  was  still  slumbering,  and  this  encourag- 
ing circumstance  disposed  her  to  go  to  bed  herself. 
Before,  however,  she  had  made  a  move  a  gentle  tap 
came  to  the  door. 

411 


A   LAODICEAN 

Paula  opened  it.  There,  in  the  faint  light  by  the 
sleeping  canaries,  stood  Charlotte's  brother. 

'  How  is  she  now  ?  '  he  whispered. 

'  Sleeping  soundly,'  said  Paula. 

'  That's  a  blessing.  I  have  not  been  to  bed.  I 
came  in  late,  and  have  now  come  down  to  know  if  I 
had  not  better  take  your  place  ?  ' 

'  Nobody  is  required,  I  think.  But  you  can  judge 
for  yourself 

Up  to  this  point  they  had  conversed  in  the  doorway 
of  the  sitting-room,  v>hich  De  Stancy  now  entered, 
crossing  it  to  Charlotte's  apartment.  He  came  out 
from  the  latter  at  a  pensive  pace. 

'  She  is  doing  well,'  he  said  gently.  *  You  have 
been  very  good  to  her.  Was  the  chair  I  saw  by  her 
bed  the  one  you  have  been  sitting  in  all  night  ? ' 

'  I  sometimes  sat  there ;  sometimes  here.' 

*  I  wish  I  could  have  sat  beside  you,  and  held  your 
hand — I  speak  frankly.' 

'  To  excess.' 

'  And  why  not  ?  I  do  not  wish  to  hide  from  you 
any  corner  of  my  breast,  futile  as  candour  may  be. 
Just  Heaven  !  for  what  reason  is  it  ordered  that  court- 
ship, in  which  soldiers  are  usually  so  successful,  should 
be  a  failure  with  me  ?  ' 

'  Your  lack  of  foresight  chiefly  in  indulging  feel- 
ings that  were  not  encouraged.  That,  and  my  uncle's 
indiscreet  permission  to  you  to  travel  with  us,  have 
precipitated  our  relations  in  a  way  that  I  could  neither 
foresee  nor  avoid,  though  of  late  I  have  had  appre- 
hensions that  it  might  come  to  this.  You  vex  and 
disturb  me  by  such  words  of  regret.' 

'  Not  more  than  you  vex  and  disturb  me.  But 
you  cannot  hate  the  man  who  loves  you  so  de- 
votedly ? ' 

*  I  have  .said  before  I  don't  hate  you.  I  repeat 
that  I  am  interested  in  your  family  and  its  associations 

412 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

because  of  its  complete  contrast  with  my  own.'  She 
might  have  added,  '  And  I  am  additionally  interested 
just  now  because  my  uncle  has  forbidden  me  to  be.' 

'  But  you  don't  care  enough  for  me  personally  to 
save  my  happiness.' 

Paula  hesitated ;  from  the  moment  De  Stancy 
confronted  her  she  had  felt  that  this  nocturnal  con- 
versation was  to  be  a  grave  business.  The  cathedral 
clock  struck  three.  '  I  have  thought  once  or  twice,' 
she  said  with  a  naivet^  unusual  in  her,  '  that  if  I 
could  be  sure  of  giving  peace  and  joy  to  your  mind 
by  becoming  your  wife,  I  ought  to  endeavour  to  do  so 
and  make  the  best  of  it — merely  as  a  charity.  But  I 
believe  that  feeling  is  a  mistake :  your  discontent  is 
constitutional,  and  would  go  on  just  the  same  whether 
I  accepted  you  or  no.  My  refusal  of  you  is  purely  an 
imaginary  grievance.' 

'  Not  if  I  think  otherwise.' 

'  O  no,'  she  murmured,  with  a  sense  that  the  place 
was  very  lonely  and  silent.  '  If  you  think  it  otherwise, 
I  suppose  it  is  otherwise. 

'  My  darling  ;  my  Paula  ! '  he  said,  seizing  her  hand. 
'  Do  promise  me  something.     You  must  indeed  ! ' 

'  Captain  De  Stancy ! '  she  said,  trembling  and 
turning  away.  '  Captain  De  Stancy  ! '  She  tried  to 
withdraw  her  fingers,  then  faced  him,  exclaiming  in  a 
firm  voice  a  third  time,  '  Captain  De  Stancy  !  let  go 
my  hand ;  for  I  tell  you  I  will  not  marry  you  ! ' 

'Good  God!'  he  cried,  dropping  her  hand.  'What 
have  I  driven  you  to  say  in  your  anger !  Retract  it — 
O,  retract  it !  ' 

'  Don't  urge  me  further,  as  you  value  my  good 
opinion  ! ' 

'  To  lose  you  now,  is  to  lose  you  for  ever.  Come, 
please  answer ! ' 

'  I  won't  be  compelled ! '  she  interrupted  with 
vehemence.      '  I  am  resolved  not  to  be  yours — not  to 

413 


A   LAODICEAN 

give  you  an  answer  to-night !  Never,  never  will  I  be 
reasoned  out  of  my  intention ;  and  I  say  I  won't 
answer  you  to-night !  I  should  never  have  let  you  be 
so  much  with  me  but  for  pity  of  you ;  and  now  it  is 
come  to  this  ! ' 

She  had  sunk  into  a  chair,  and  now  leaned  upon 
her  hand,  and  buried  her  face  in  her  handkerchief. 
He  had  never  caused  her  any  such  agitation  as  this 
before. 

'  You  stab  me  with  your  words,'  continued  De 
Stancy.  '  The  experience  I  have  had  with  you  is 
without  parallel,  Paula.  It  seems  like  a  distracting 
dream.' 

'  I  won't  be  hurried  by  anybody  ! ' 

'  That  may  mean  anything,'  he  said,  with  a  per- 
plexed, passionate  air.  '  Well,  mine  is  a  fallen  family, 
and  we  must  abide  caprices.  Would  to  Heaven  it  were 
extinguished ! ' 

*  What  was  extinguished  ?  '  she  murmured. 

'  The  De  Stancys.  Here  am  I,  a  homeless  wanderer, 
living  on  my  pay ;  in  the  next  room  lies  she,  my  sister, 
a  poor  little  fragile  feverish  invalid  with  no  social 
position — and  hardly  a  friend.  We  two  represent  the 
De  Stancy  line ;  and  I  wish  we  were  behind  the  iron 
door  of  our  old  vault  at  Sleeping-Green.  It  can  be 
seen  by  looking  at  us  and  our  circumstances  that  we 
cry  for  the  earth  and  oblivion  ! ' 

'  Captain  De  Stancy,  it  is  not  like  that,  I  assure 
you,'  syffipathized  Paula  with  damp  eyelashes.  '  I  love 
Charlotte  too  dearly  for  you  to  talk  like  that,  indeed. 
I  don't  want  to  marry  you  exactly :  and  yet  I  cannot 
bring  myself  to  say  I  permanently  reject  you,  because 
I  remember  you  are  Charlotte's  brother,  and  do  not 
wish  to  be  the  cause  of  any  morbid  feelings  in  you 
which  would  ruin  your  future  prospects.' 

'  My  dear  life,  what  is  it  you  doubt  in  me  ?  Your 
earnestness    not    to    do    me    harm    makes    it    all    the 

414 


DE   STANCY  AND    PAULA 

harder  for  me  to  think  of  never  being  more  than  a 
friend.' 

'  Well,  I  have  not  positively  refused  ! '  she  exclaimed, 
in  mixed  tones  of  pity  and  distress.  '  Let  me  think 
it  over  a  little  while.  It  is  not  generous  to  urge  so 
strongly  before  I  can  collect  my  thoughts,  and  at  this 
midnight  time ! ' 

'  DarHng,  forgive  it ! — There,  I'll  say  no  more.' 

He  then  offered  to  sit  up  in  her  place  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night;  but  Paula  declined,  assuring  him 
that  she  meant  to  stay  only  another  half-hour,  after 
which  nobody  would  be  necessary. 

He  had  already  crossed  the  landing  to  ascend  to  his 
room,  when  she  stepped  after  him,  and  asked  if  he  had 
received  his  telegram. 

'  No,'  said  De  Stancy.     '  Nor  have  I  heard  of  one.' 

Paula  explained  that  it  was  put  in  his  room,  that 
he  might  see  it  the  moment  he  came  in. 

'  It  matters  very  little,'  he  replied,  '  since  I  shall  see 
it  now.  Good-night,  dearest :  good-night ! '  he  added 
tenderly. 

She  gravely  shook  her  head.  '  It  is  not  for  you  to 
express  yourself  like  that,'  she  answered.  '  Good-night, 
Captain  De  Stancy.' 

He  went  up  the  stairs  to  the  second  floor,  and 
Paula  returned  to  the  sitting-room.  Having  left  a  light 
burning  Ue  Stancy  proceeded  to  look  for  the  telegram, 
and  found  it  on  the  carpet,  where  it  had  been  swept 
from  the  table.  When  he  had  opened  the  sheet  a 
sudden  solemnity  overspread  his  face.  He  sat  down, 
rested  his  elbow  on  the  table,  and  his  forehead  on  his 
hands. 

Captain  De  Stancy  did  not  remain  thus  long.  Rising 
he  went  softly  downstairs.  The  grey  morning  had  by 
this  time  crept  into  the  hotel,  rendering  a  liglit  no 
longer  necessary.  The  old  clock  on  the  landing  was 
within    a    few    minutes    of    four,    and    the    birds    were 

415 


A   LAODICEAN 

hopping  up  and  down  their  cages,  and  whetting  their 
bills.  He  tapped  at  the  sitting-room,  and  she  came 
instantly. 

'  But    I    told    you    it   was    not    necessary '    she 

began. 

'  Yes,  but  the  telegram,'  he  said  hurriedly.  '  I  wanted 
to  let  you  know  first  that — it  is  very  serious.  Paula — 
my  father  is  dead !  He  died  suddenly  yesterday,  and 
I  must  go  at  once.  .  .  .  About  Charlotte — and  how  to 
let  her  know ' 

'  She  must  not  be  told  yet,'  said  Paula.  .  .  .  '  Sir 
William  dead  ! ' 

'  You  think  we  had  better  not  tell  her  just  yet  ? ' 
said  De  Stancy  anxiously.  '  That's  what  I  want  to 
consult  you  about,  if  you — don't  mind  my  intruding.' 

'  Certainly  I  don't,'  she  said. 

They  continued  the  discussion  for  some  time ;  and 
it  was  decided  that  Charlotte  should  not  be  informed  of 
what  had  happened  till  the  doctor  had  been  consulted, 
Paula  promising  to  account  for  her  brother's  departure. 

De  Stancy  then  prepared  to  leave  for  England  by 
the  first  morning  train,  and  roused  the  night-porter, 
which  functionary,  having  packed  off  Abner  Power,  was 
discovered  asleep  on  the  sofa  of  the  landlord's  parlour. 
At  half-past  five  Paula,  who  in  the  interim  had  been 
pensively  sitting  with  her  hand  to  her  chin,  quite  for- 
getting that  she  had  meant  to  go  to  bed,  heard  wheels 
without,  and  looked  from  the  window.  A  fly  had  been 
brought  round,  and  one  of  the  hotel  servants  was  in 
the  act  of  putting  up  a  portmanteau  with  De  Stancy's 
initials  upon  it.  A  minute  afterwards  the  captain  came 
to  her  door. 

'  I  thought  you  had  not  gone  to  bed,  after  all.' 

'  I  was  anxious  to  see  you  off,'  said  she,  '  since 
neither  of  the  others  is  awake ;  and  you  wished  me  not 
to  rouse  them.' 

'  Quite  right,  you  are  very  good ; '  and  lowering  his 

416 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

voice :  '  Paula,  it  is  a  sad  and  solemn  time  with  me. — 
Will  you  grant  me  one  word — not  on  our  last  sad 
subject,  but  on  the  previous  one — before  I  part  with 
you  to  go  and  bury  my  father  ? ' 

'  Certainly,'  she  said,  in  gentle  accents. 

'  Then  have  you  thought  over  my  position  ?  Will 
you  at  last  have  pity  upon  my  loneliness  by  becoming 
my  wife  ? ' 

Paula  sighed  deeply;  and  said,  'Yes.' 

'  Your  hand  upon  it.' 

She  gave  him  her  hand  :  he  held  it  a  few  moments, 
then  raised  it  to  his  lips,  and  was  gone. 

When  Mrs.  Goodman  rose  she  was  informed  of  Sir 
William's  death,  and  of  his  son's  departure. 

'  Then  the  captain  is  now  Sir  William  De  Stancy ! ' 
she  exclaimed.  '  Really,  Paula,  since  you  would  be 
Lady  De  Stancy  by  marrying  him,  I  almost  think ' 

'  Hush,  aunt ! ' 

'  Well ;  what  are  you  Avriting  there  ?  ' 

'  Only  entering  in  my  diary  that  I  accepted  him  this 
morning  for  pity's  sake,  in  spite  of  Uncle  Abner.  They'll 
say  it  was  for  the  title,  but  knowing  it  was  not  I  don't 
care.' 


D 


A   LAODICEAN 


XI 

On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day  after  the  parting 
between  Paula  and  De  .Stancy  at  Amiens,  when  it  was 
quite  dark  in  the  ]\Iarkton  highway,  except  in  so  far  as 
the  shades  were  broken  by  the  faint  Hghts  from  the 
adjacent  town,  a  young  man  knocked  softly  at  the  door 
of  Myrtle  Villa,  and  asked  if  Captain  De  Stancy  had 
arrived  from  abroad.  He  was  answered  in  the  affir- 
mative, and  in  a  few  moments  the  captain  himself  came 
from  an  adjoining  room. 

Seeing  that  his  visitor  was  Dare,  from  whom,  as 
will  be  remembered,  he  had  parted  at  Carlsruhe  in  no 
very  satisfied  mood,  De  Stancy  did  not  ask  him  into 
the  house,  but  putting  on  his  hat  went  out  with  the 
youth  into  the  public  road.  Here  they  conversed  as 
they  walked  up  and  down.  Dare  beginning  by  alluding 
to  the  death  of  Sir  William,  the  suddenness  of  which  he 
feared  would  delay  Captain  De  Stancy's  overtures  for 
the  hand  of  Miss  Power. 

'  No,'  said  De  Stancy  moodily.  '  On  the  contrary, 
it  has  precipitated  matters.' 

'  She  has  accepted  you,  captain  ?  ' 

'  We  are  engaged  to  be  married.' 

'  Well  done  !  I  congratulate  you.'  The  speaker  was 
about  to  proceed  to  further  triumphant  notes  on  the 
intelligence,    when    casting    his    eye    upon    the    upper 

418 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

windows  of  the  neighbouring  villa,  he  appeared  to  reflect 
on  what  was  within  them,  and  checking  himself,  '  When 
is  the  funeral  to  be  ? ' 

*  To-morrow,'  De  Stancy  replied.  '  It  would  be  ad- 
visable for  you  not  to  come  near  me  during  the  day.' 

'  I  will  not.  I  will  be  a  mere  spectator.  The  old 
vault  of  our  ancestors  will  be  opened,  I  presume, 
captain  ? ' 

'  It  is  opened.' 

'  I  must  see  it — and  ruminate  on  what  we  once  were  : 

it  is  a  thing  I  like  doing.     The  ghosts  of  our  dead 

Ah,  what  was  that  ?  ' 

'  I  heard  nothing.' 

'  I  thought  I  heard  a  footstep  behind  us.' 

They  stood  still ;  but  the  road  appeared  to  be  quite 
deserted,  and  likely  to  continue  so  for  the  remainder  of 
that  evening.  They  walked  on  again,  speaking  in  some- 
what lower  tones  than  before. 

*  Will  the  late  Sir  William's  death  delay  the  wedding 
much  ? '  asked  the  younger  man  curiously. 

De  Stancy  languidly  answered  that  he  did  not  see 
why  it  should  do  so.  Some  little  time  would  of  course 
intervene,  but,  since  there  were  several  reasons  for 
despatch,  he  should  urge  INIiss  Power  and  her  relatives 
to  consent  to  a  virtually  private  wedding  which  might 
take  place  at  a  very  early  date;  and  he  thought  there 
would  be  a  general  consent  on  that  point. 

'  There  are  indeed  reasons  for  despatch.  Your  title, 
Sir  William,  is  a  new  safeguard  over  her  heart,  cer- 
tainly ;  but  there  is  many  a  slip,  and  you  must  not  lose 
her  now.' 

'  I  don't  mean  to  lose  her  ! '  said  De  Stancy.  '  She 
is  too  good  to  be  lost.  And  yet — since  she  gave  her 
promise  I  have  felt  more  than  once  that  I  would  not 
engage  in  such  a  struggle  again.  It  was  not  a  thing  of 
my  beginning,  though  I  was  easily  enough  inflamed  to 
follow.     But  I  will  not  lose  her  now. — For  God's  sake, 

419 


A   LAODICEAN 

keep  that  secret  you  have  so  foolishly  pricked  on 
your  breast.  It  fills  me  with  remorse  to  think  what 
she  wdth  her  scrupulous  notions  will  feel,  should  she 
ever  know  of  you  and  your  history,  and  your  relation 
to  me ! ' 

Dare  made  no  reply  till  after  a  silence,  when  he 
said,  '  Of  course  mum's  the  word  till  the  wedding 
is  over.' 

'  And  afterwards — promise  that  for  her  sake  ?  ' 

'  And  probably  afterwards.' 

Sir  William  De  Stancy  drew  a  dejected  breath  at  the 
tone  of  the  answer.  They  conversed  but  a  little  w^hile 
longer,  the  captain  hinting  to  Dare  that  it  was  time  for 
them  to  part ;  not,  however,  before  he  had  uttered  a 
hope  that  the  young  man  would  turn  over  a  new  leaf 
and  engage  in  some  regular  pursuit.  Promising  to  call 
upon  him  at  his  lodgings  De  Stancy  went  indoors,  and 
Dare  briskly  retraced  his  steps  to  Markton. 

When  his  footfall  had  died  away,  and  the  door  of 
the  house  opposite  had  been  closed,  another  man 
appeared  upon  the  scene.  He  came  gently  out  of 
the  hedge  opposite  Myrtle  Villa,  which  he  paused  to 
regard  for  a  moment.  But  instead  of  going  townward, 
he  turned  his  back  upon  the  distant  sprinkle  of  lights, 
and  did  not  check  his  walk  till  he  reached  the  lodge  of 
Stancy  Castle. 

Here  he  pulled  the  wooden  acorn  beside  the  arch, 
and  when  the  porter  appeared  his  light  revealed  the 
pedestrian's  countenance  to  be  scathed,  as  by  lightning. 

'  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Power,'  said  the  porter  with 
sudden  deference  as  he  opened  the  wicket.  '  But  we 
wasn't  expecting  anybody  to-night,  as  there  is  nobody 
at  home,  and  the  servants  on  board  wages ;  and  that's 
why  I  was  so  long  a-coming.' 

« No  matter,  no  matter,'  said  Abner  Power.  '  I 
have  returned  on  sudden  business,  and  have  not  come 
to    stay    longer    than    to-night.     Your    mistress   is   not 

420 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

with  me.  I  meant  to  sleep  in  Markton,  but  have 
changed  my  mind.' 

Mr.  Power  had  brought  no  luggage  with  him  beyond 
a  small  hand-bag,  and  as  soon  as  a  room  could  be  got 
ready  he  retired  to  bed. 

The  next  morning  he  passed  in  idly  walking  about 
the  grounds  and  observing  the  progress  which  had 
been  made  in  the  works — now  temporarily  suspended. 
But  that  inspection  was  less  his  object  in  remaining 
there  than  meditation,  was  abundantly  evident.  When 
the  bell  began  to  toll  from  the  neighbouring  church  to 
announce  the  burial  of  Sir  William  De  Stancy,  he  passed 
through  the  castle,  and  went  on  foot  in  the  direction 
indicated  by  the  sound.  Reaching  the  margin  of  the 
churchyard  he  looked  over  the  wall,  his  presence  being 
masked  by  bushes  and  a  group  of  idlers  from  Mark- 
ton  who  stood  in  front.  Soon  a  funeral  procession 
of  simple — almost  meagre  and  threadbare — character 
arrived,  but  Power  did  not  join  the  people  who 
followed  the  deceased  into  the  church.  De  Stancy 
was  the  chief  mourner  and  only  relation  present,  the 
other  followers  of  the  broken-down  old  man  being  an 
ancient  lawyer,  a  couple  of  faithful  servants,  and  a 
bowed  villager  who  had  been  page  to  the  late  Sir 
A\'illiam's  father — the  single  living  person  left  in  the 
parish  who  remembered  the  De  Stancys  as  people 
of  wealth  and  influence,  and  who  firmly  believed  that 
family  would  come  into  its  rights  ere  long,  and  oust 
the  uncircumcized  Philistines  who  had  taken  possession 
of  the  old  lands. 

The  funeral  was  over,  and  the  rusty  carriages  had 
gone,  together  with  many  of  the  spectators ;  but  Power 
lingered  in  the  churchyard  as  if  he  were  looking  for 
some  one.  At  length  he  entered  the  church,  passing 
by  the  cavernous  pitfall  with  descending  steps  which 
stood  open  outside  the  wall  of  the  De  Stancy  aisle. 
Arrived  within  he  scanned  the  few  idlers  of  antiquarian 

421 


A  LAODICEAN 

tastes  who  had  remained  after  the  service  to  inspect 
the  monuments ;  and  beside  a  recumbent  effigy — the 
effigy  in  alabaster  whose  features  Paula  had  wiped 
with  her  handkerchief  when  there  with  Somerset — he 
beheld  the  man  it  had  been  his  business  to  find. 
Abner  Power  went  up  and  touched  this  person,  who 
was  Dare,  on  the  shoulder. 

'  Mr.  Power — so  it  is  ! '  said  the  youth.  '  I  have  not 
seen  you  since  we  met  in  Carlsruhe.' 

'  You  shall  see  all  the  more  of  me  now  to  make  up 
for  it.     Shall  we  walk  round  the  church  ?  ' 

'  With  all  my  heart,'  said  Dare. 

They  walked  round ;  and  Abner  Power  began  in  a 
sardonic  recitative  :  '  I  am  a  traveller,  and  it  takes  a 
good  deal  to  astonish  me.  So  I  neither  swooned  nor 
screamed  when  I  learnt  a  few  hours  ago  what  I  had 
suspected  for  a  week,  that  you  are  of  the  house  and 
lineage  of  Jacob.'  He  flung  a  nod  towards  the  canopied 
tombs  as  he  spoke. — '  In  other  words,  that  you  are  of 
the  same  breed  as  the  De  Stancys.' 

Dare  cursorily  glanced  round.  Nobody  was  near 
enough  to  hear  their  words,  the  nearest  persons  being 
two  workmen  just  outside,  who  were  bringing  their 
tools  up  from  the  vault  preparatively  to  closing  it. 

Having  observed  this  Dare  replied,  '  I,  too,  am  a 
traveller ;  and  neither  do  I  swoon  nor  scream  at  what 
you  say.  But  I  assure  you  that  if  you  busy  yourself 
about  me,  you  may  truly  be  said  to  busy  yourself 
about  nothing.' 

'  Well,  that's  a  matter  of  opinion.  Now,  there's  no 
scarlet  left  in  my  face  to  blush  for  men's  follies ;  but  as 
an  alliance  is  afoot  between  my  niece  and  the  present 
Sir  William,  this  must  be  looked  into.' 

Dare  reflectively  said  '  O,'  as  he  observed  through 
the  window  one  of  the  workmen  bring  up  a  candle  from 
the  vault  and  extinguish  it  with  his  fingers. 

'The    marriage    is    desirable,  and  your  relationship 

422 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 


in  itself  is  of  no  consequence,'  continued  the  elder; 
'  but  just  look  at  this.  You  have  forced  on  tlie 
marriage  by  unscrupulous  means,  your  object  being 
only  too  clearly   to   live  out   of  the  proceeds   of  that 


marriage. 


'  Mr.  Po'.ver,  you  mock  me,  because  I  labour  under 
the  misfortune  of  having  an  illegitimate  father  to  provide 
for.     I  really  deserve  commiseration.' 

'  You  might  deserve  it  if  that  were  all.  But  it  looks 
bad  for  my  niece's  happiness  as  Lady  De  Stancy,  that 
she  and  her  husband  are  to  be  perpetually  haunted  by 
a  young  chevalier  (fmdustrie,  who  can  forge  a  telegram 
on  occasion,  and  libel  an  innocent  man  by  an  ingenious 
device  in  photography.  It  looks  so  bad,  in  short, 
that,  advantageous  as  a  title  and  old  family  name 
would  be  to  her  and  her  children,  I  won't  let  my 
brother's  daughter  run  the  risk  of  having  them  at  the 
expense  of  being  in  the  grip  of  a  man  like  you. 
There  are  other  suitors  in  the  world,  and  other  titles  : 
and  she  is  a  beautiful  woman,  who  can  well  afford  to 
be  fastidious.  I  shall  let  her  know  at  once  of  these 
things,  and  break  off  the  business — unless  you  do 
one  thing.' 

A  workman  brought  up  another  candle  from  the 
vault,  and  prepared  to  let  down  the  slab.  '  Well,  Mr. 
Power,  and  what  is  that  one  thing  ? ' 

'  Go  to  Peru  as  my  agent  in  a  business  I  have  just 
undertaken  there.' 

*  And  settle  there  ?  ' 

'  Of  course.  I  am  soon  going  over  myself,  and  will 
bring  you  anything  you  require.' 

'  How  long  will  you  give  me  to  consider  ? '  said 
Dare. 

Power  looked  at  his  watch.  '  One,  two,  three, 
four  hours,'  he  said.  '  I  leave  Markton  by  the  seven 
o'clock  train  this  evening.' 

'  And  if  I  meet  your  proposal  with  a  negative  ? ' 

423 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  I  shall  go  at  once  to  my  niece  and  tell  her  the  whole 
circumstances — tell  her  that,  by  marrying  Sir  William, 
she  allies  herself  with  an  unhappy  gentleman  in  the 
power  of  a  criminal  son  who  makes  his  life  a  burden  to 
him  by  perpetual  demands  upon  his  purse;  who  will 
increase  those  demands  with  his  accession  to  wealth, 
threaten  to  degrade  her  by  exposing  her  husband's 
antecedents  if  she  opposes  his  extortions,  and  who  will 
make  her  miserable  by  letting  her  know  that  her  old 
lover  was  shamefully  victimized  by  a  youth  she  is 
bound  to  screen  out  of  respect  to  her  husband's  feel- 
ings. Now  a  man  does  not  care  to  let  his  own  flesh 
and  blood  incur  the  danger  of  such  anguish  as  that,  and 
I  shall  do  what  I  say  to  prevent  it.  Knowing  what  a 
lukewarm  sentiment  hers  is  for  Sir  William  at  best,  I 
shall  not  have  much  difficulty.' 

'  Well,  I  don't  feel  inclined  to  go  to  Peru.' 

'  Neither  do  I  want  to  break  off  the  match,  though  I 
am  ready  to  do  it.  But  you  care  about  your  personal 
freedom,  and  you  might  be  made  to  wear  the  broad 
arrow  for  your  tricks  on  Somerset.' 

'  Mr.  Power,  I  see  your  are  a  hard  man.' 

'  I  am  a  hard  man.  You  will  find  me  one.  Well, 
will  you  go  to  Peru  ?  Or  I  don't  mind  Australia  or 
California  as  alternatives.  As  long  as  you  choose  to 
remain  in  either  of  those  wealth-producing  places,  so 
long  will  Cunningham  Haze  go  uninformed.' 

'  Mr.  Power,  I  am  overcome.  Will  you  allow  me  to 
sit  down  ?  Suppose  we  go  into  the  vestry.  It  is  more 
comfortable.' 

They  entered  the  vestry,  and  seated  themselves  in 
two  chairs,  one  at  each  end  of  the  table. 

'  In  the  meantime,'  continued  Dare,  '  to  lend  a  little 
romance  to  stern  realities,  I'll  tell  you  a  singular  dream 
I  had  just  before  you  returned  to  England.'  Power 
looked  contemptuous,  but  Dare  went  on :  'I  dreamt 
that  once  upon  a  time  there  were  two  brothers,  born  of 

424 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

a  Nonconformist  family,  one  of  whom  became  a  railway- 
contractor,  and  the  other  a  mechanical  engineer.' 

'A  mechanical  engineer  —  good,'  said  Power,  be- 
ginning to  attend. 

'  \\'hen  the  first  went  abroad  in  his  profession,  and 
became  engaged  on  continental  railways,  the  second,  a 
younger  man,  looking  round  for  a  start,  also  betook 
himself  to  the  continent.  But  though  ingenious  and 
scientific,  he  had  not  the  business  capacity  of  the 
elder,  whose  rebukes  led  to  a  sharp  quarrel  between 
them ;  and  they  parted  in  bitter  estrangement — never 
to  meet  again  as  it  turned  out,  owing  to  the  dogged 
obstinacy  and  self-will  of  the  younger  man.  He,  after 
this,  seemed  to  lose  his  moral  ballast  altogether,  and 
after  some  eccentric  doings  he  was  reduced  to  a  state 
of  poverty,  and  took  lodgings  in  a  court  in  a  back  street 
of  a  town  we  will  call  Geneva,  considerably  in  doubt 
as  to  what  steps  he  should  take  to  keep  body  and  soul 
together.' 

Abner  Power  was  shooting  a  narrow  ray  of  eyesight 
at  Dare  from  the  corner  of  his  nearly  closed  lids.  '  Your 
dream  is  so  interesting,'  he  said,  with  a  hard  smile, 
'  that  I  could  listen  to  it  all  day.' 

'  Excellent ! '  said  Dare,  and  went  on  :  '  Now  it  so 
happened  that  the  house  opposite  to  the  one  taken  by 
the  mechanician  was  peculiar.  It  was  a  tall  narrow 
building,  wholly  unornamented,  the  walls  covered  with 
a  layer  of  white  plaster  cracked  and  soiled  by  time.  I 
seem  to  see  that  house  now  !  Six  stone  steps  led  up 
to  the  door,  with  a  rusty  iron  railing  on  each  side,  and 
under  these  steps  were  others  which  went  down  to  a 
cellar — in  my  dream  of  course.' 

'  Of  course — in  your  dream,'  said  Power,  nodding 
comprehensively. 

'  Sitting  lonely  and  apathetic  without  a  light,  at  his 
own  chamber-window  at  night  time,  our  mechanician 
frequently  observed  dark  figures  descending  these  steps, 

425 


A   LAODICEAN 

and  ultimately  discovered  that  the  house  was  the  meet- 
ing-place of  a  fraternity  of  political  philosophers,  whose 
object  was  the  extermination  of  tyrants  and  despots, 
and  the  overthrow  of  established  religions.  The  dis- 
covery was  startling  enough,  but  our  hero  was  not  easily 
startled.  He  kept  their  secret  and  lived  on  as  before. 
At  last  the  mechanician  and  his  affairs  became  known 
to  the  society,  as  the  affairs  of  the  society  had  become 
known  to  the  mechanician,  and,  instead  of  shooting 
him  as  one  who  knew  too  much  for  their  safety,  they 
were  struck  with  his  faculty  for  silence,  and  thought 
they  might  be  able  to  make  use  of  him.' 

'  To  be  sure,'  said  Abner  Power. 

'  Next,  like  friend  Bunyan,  I  saw  in  my  dream  that 
denunciation  was  the  breath  of  life  to  this  society.  At 
an  earlier  date  in  its  history,  objectionable  persons  in 
power  had  been  from  time  to  time  murdered,  and 
curiously  enough  numbered;  that  is,  upon  the  body  of 
each  was  set  a  mark  or  seal,  announcing  that  he  was 
one  of  a  series.  But  at  this  time  the  question  before 
the  society  related  to  the  substitution  for  the  dagger, 
v>-hich  v/as  vetoed  as  obsolete,  of  seme  explosive  machine 
that  would  be  both  more  effectual  and  less  difficult  to 
manage;  and  in  short,  a  large  reward  was  offered  to 
our  needy  Englishman  if  he  would  put  their  ideas  of 
such  a  machine  into  shape.' 

Abner  Power  nodded  again,  his  complexion  being 
peculiar — which  might  partly  have  been  accounted  for 
by  the  reflection  of  window-light  from  the  green-baize 
table-cloth. 

'  He  agreed,  though  no  politician  whatever  himself, 
to  exercise  his  wits  on  their  account,  and  brought  his 
machine  to  such  a  pitch  of  perfection,  that  it  was  the 
identical  one  used  in  the  memorable  attempt — '  (Dare 
whispered  the  remainder  of  the  sentence  in  tones  so 
low  that  not  a  mouse  in  the  corner  could  have  heard.) 
'  Well,  the  inventor  of  that  explosive  has  naturally  been 

426 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

wanted  ever  since  by  all  the  heads  of  police  in  Europe. 
But  the  most  curious — or  perhaps  the  most  natural- 
part  of  my  story  is,  that  our  hero,  after  the  catastrophe, 
grew  disgusted  with  himself  and  his  comrades,  acquired, 
in  a  fit  of  revulsion,  quite  a  conservative  taste  in  politics, 
which  was  strengthened  greatly  by  the  news  he  indirectly 
received  of  the  great  wealth  and  respectability  of  his 
brother,  who  had  had  no  comm.union  with  him  for  years, 
and  supposed  him  dead.  He  abjured  his  employers 
and  resolved  to  abandon  them ;  but  before  coming  to 
England  he  decided  to  destroy  all  trace  of  his  com- 
bustible inventions  by  dropping  them  into  the  neighbour- 
ing lake  at  night  from  a  boat.  You  feel  the  room  close, 
Mr.  Power  ?  ' 

'  No,  I  suffer  from  attacks  of  perspiration  whenever 
I  sit  in  a  consecrated  edifice — that's  all.     Pray  go  on.' 

'  In  carrying  out  this  project,  an  explosion  occurred, 
just  as  he  was  throwing  the  stock  overboard  :  it  blew 
up  into  his  face,  wounding  him  severely,  and  nearly 
depriving  him  of  sight.  The  boat  was  upset,  but  he 
swam  ashore  in  the  darkness,  and  remained  hidden  till 
he  recovered,  though  the  scars  produced  by  the  burns 
had  been  set  on  him  for  ever.  This  accident,  which 
was  such  a  misfortune  to  him  as  a  man,  was  an  advantage 
to  him  as  a  conspirators'  engineer  retiring  from  practice, 
and  afforded  him  a  disguise  both  from  his  own  brother- 
hood and  from  the  police,  which  he  has  considered 
impenetrable,  but  which  is  getting  seen  through  by  one 
or  two  keen  eyes  as  time  goes  on.  Instead  of  coming 
to  England  just  then,  he  went  to  Peru,  connected 
himself  with  the  guano  trade,  I  believe,  and  after  his 
brother's  death  revisited  England,  his  old  life  obliterated 
as  far  as  practicable  by  his  new  principles.  Pie  is 
known  only  as  a  great  traveller  to  his  surviving  relatives, 
though  he  seldom  says  where  he  has  travelled.  Un- 
luckily for  himself,  he  is  wanted  by  certain  European 
governments  as  badly  as  ever.' 

427 


A   LAODICEAN 

Dare  raised  his  eyes  as  he  concluded  his  narration. 
As  has  been  remarked,  he  was  sitting  at  one  end  of  the 
vestry-table,  Power  at  the  other,  the  green  cloth  stretching 
between  them.  On  the  edge  of  the  table  adjoining  Mr. 
Power  a  shining  nozzle  of  metal  was  quietly  resting,  like 
a  dog's  nose.  It  was  directed  point-blank  at  the  young 
man. 

Dare  started.     '  Ah — a  revolver  ? '  he  said. 

Mr.  Power  nodded  placidly,  his  hand  still  grasping 
the  pistol  behind  the  edge  of  the  table.  '  As  a  traveller 
I  always  carry  one  of  'em,'  he  returned  ;  '  and  for  the 
last  five  minutes  I  have  been  closely  considering  whether 
your  numerous  brains  are  worth  blowing  out  or  no. 
The  vault  yonder  has  suggested  itself  as  convenient 
and  snug  for  one  of  the  same  family ;  but  the  mental 
problem  that  stays  my  hand  is,  how  am  I  to  despatch 
and  bury  you  there  without  the  workmen  seeing  ? ' 

'  'Tis  a  strange  problem,  certainly,'  replied  Dare, 
'  and  one  on  which  I  fear  I  could  not  give  disinterested 
advice.  Moreover,  while  you,  as  a  traveller,  always 
carry  a  weapon  of  defence,  as  a  traveller  so  do  I.  And 
for  the  last  three-quarters  of  an  hour  I  have  been 
thinking  concerning  you,  an  intensified  form  of  what 
you  have  been  thinking  of  me,  but  without  any  con- 
cern as  to  your  interment.  See  here  for  a  proof  of  it.' 
And  a  second  steel  nose  rested  on  the  edge  of  the 
table  opposite  to  the  first,  steadied  by  Dare's  right 
hand. 

They  remained  for  some  time  motionless,  the  tick  of 
the  tower  clock  distinctly  audible. 

Mr.  Power  spoke  first. 

'  Well,  'twould  be  a  pity  to  make  a  mess  here  under 
such  dubious  circumstances.  Mr.  Dare,  I  j'perceive  that 
a  mean  vagabond  can  be  as  sharp  as  a  political  regen- 
erator.    I  cry  quits,  if  you  care  to  do  the  same  ? ' 

Dare  assented,  and  the  pistols  were  put  away. 

'  Then  we  do  nothing  at  all,  either  .side ;  but  let  the 

428 


DE    STANCY   AND    PAULA 

course    of  true  love   run    on    to   marriage — that's    the 
understanding,  I  think  ? '  said  Dare  as  he  rose. 

'  It  is,'  said  Power  ;  and  turning  on  his  heel,  he  left 
the  vestry. 

Dare  retired  to  the  church  and  thence  to  the  out- 
side, where  he  idled  away  a  few  minutes  in  looking  at 
the  workmen,  who  were  now  lowering  into  its  place 
a  large  stone  slab,  bearing  the  words  '  De  Stancv,' 
which  covered  the  entrance  to  the  vault.  When  the 
footway  of  the  churchyard  was  restored  to  its  normal 
condition  Dare  pursued  his  way  to  Markton. 

Abner  Power  walked  back  to  the  castle  at  a  slow 
and  equal  pace,  as  though  he  carried  an  over-brinmiing 
vessel  on  his  head.  He  silently  let  himself  in,  entered 
the  long  gallery,  and  sat  down.  The  length  of  time 
that  he  sat  there  was  so  remarkable  as  to  raise  that 
interval  of  inanition  to  the  rank  of  a  feat. 

Power's  eyes  glanced  through  one  of  the  window- 
casements  :  from  a  hole  without  he  saw  the  head  of 
a  tomtit  protruding.  He  listlessly  watched  the  bird 
during  the  successive  epochs  of  his  thought,  till  night 
came,  without  any  perceptible  change  occurring  in  him. 
Such  fixity  would  have  meant  nothing  else  than  sudden 
death  in  any  other  man,  but  in  Mr.  Power  it  merely 
signified  that  he  was  engaged  in  ruminations  which 
necessitated  a  more  extensive  survey  than  usual.  At 
last,  at  half-past  eight,  after  having  sat  for  five  hours 
with  his  eyes  on  the  residence  of  the  tomtits,  to 
whom  night  had  brought  cessation  of  thought,  if  not 
to  him  who  had  observed  them,  he  rose  amid  the 
shades  of  the  furniture,  and  rang  the  bell.  There  were 
only  a  servant  or  two  in  the  castle,  one  of  whom  pre- 
sently came  with  a  Hght  in  her  hand  and  a  startled 
look  upon  her  face,  which  was  not  reduced  when 
she  recognized  him  ;  for  in  the  opinion  of  that  house- 
hold there  was  something  ghoul-like  in  Mr.  Power, 
which  made  him  no  desirable  guest. 

429 


A   LAODICEAN 

He  ate  a  late  meal,  and  retired  to  bed,  where  he 
seemed  to  sleep  not  unsoundly.  The  next  morning 
he  received  a  letter  which  afforded  him  infinite  satis- 
faction and  gave  his  stagnant  impulses  a  new  mo- 
mentum. He  entered  the  library,  and  amid  objects 
swathed  in  brown  holland  sat  down  and  wrote  a 
note  to  his  niece  at  Amiens.  Therein  he  stated  that, 
finding  that  the  Ans;lo  -  South  -  American  house  with 
which  he  had  recently  connected  himself  required  his 
presence  in  Peru,  it  obliged  him  to  leave  without 
waiting  for  her  return.  He  felt  the  less  uneasy  at 
going,  since  he  had  learnt  that  Captain  De  Stancy 
would  return  at  once  to  Amiens  to  his  sick  sister, 
and  see  them  safely  home  when  she  improved.  He 
afterwards  left  the  castle,  disappearing  towards  a 
railway  station  some  miles  above  Markton,  the  road 
to  which  lay  across  an  unfrequented  down. 


DE   STANCY  AND   PAULA 


XII 

It  was  a  fine  afternoon  of  late  summer,  nearly  three 
months  subsequent  to  the  death  of  Sir  William  De 
Stancy  and  Paula's  engagement  to  marry  his  successor 
in  the  title.  George  Somerset  had  started  on  a  profes- 
sional journey  that  took  him  through  the  charming  dis- 
trict which  lay  around  Stancy  Castle.  Having  resigned 
his  appointment  as  architect  to  that  important  structure 
— a  resignation  which  had  been  accepted  by  Paula 
through  her  solicitor — he  had  bidden  farewell  to  the 
locality  after  putting  matters  in  such  order  that  his 
successor,  whoever  he  might  be,  should  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  obtaining  the  particulars  necessary  to  the  com- 
pletion of  the  work  in  hand.  Hardly  to  his  surprise 
this  successor  was  Havill. 

Somerset's  resignation  had  been  tendered  in  no 
hasty  mood.  On  returning  to  England,  and  in  due 
course  to  the  castle,  everything  bore  in  upon  his  mind 
the  exceeding  sorrowfulness — he  would  not  say  humilia- 
tion— of  continuing  to  act  in  his  former  capacity  for  a 
woman  who,  from  seeming  more  than  a  dear  friend,  had 
become  less  than  an  acquaintance. 

So  he  resigned ;  but  now,  as  the  train  drew  on  into 
that  once  beloved  tract  of  country,  the  images  which 
met  his  eye  threw  him  back  in  point  of  emotion  to 
very  near  where  he  had  been  before  making  himself  a 

431 


A   LAODICEAN 

stranger  here.  The  train  entered  the  cutting;  on  whose 
brink  he  had  walked  when  the  carriage  containing  Paula 
and  her  friends  surprised  him  the  previous  summer. 
He  looked  out  of  the  window :  they  were  passing  the 
well-known  curve  that  led  up  to  the  tunnel  constructed 
by  her  father,  into  which  he  had  gone  when  the  train 
came  by  and  Paula  had  been  alarmed  for  his  life. 
There  was  the  path  they  had  both  climbed  afterwards, 
involuntarily  seizing  each  other's  hand ;  the  bushes,  the 
grass,  the  flowers,  everything  just  the  same  : 

' -Here  was  the  pleasant  place, 


And  nothing  wanting  was,  save  She,  alas ! ' 

When  they  came  out  of  the  tunnel  at  the  other  end 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  distant  castle-keep,  and 
the  well-remembered  walls  beneath  it.  The  experience 
so  far  transcended  the  intensity  of  what  is  called 
mournful  pleasure  as  to  make  him  wonder  how  he  could 
have  miscalculated  himself  to  the  extent  of  supposing 
that  he  might  pass  the  spot  with  controllable  emotion. 

On  entering  Markton  station  he  withdrew  into  a 
remote  corner  of  the  carriage,  and  closed  his  eyes  with 
a  resolve  not  to  open  them  till  the  embittering  scenes 
should  be  passed  by.  He  had  not  long  to  wait  for 
this  event.  When  again  in  motion  his  eye  fell  upon 
the  skirt  of  a  lady's  dress  opposite,  the  owner  of  which 
had  entered  and  seated  herself  so  softly  as  not  to 
attract  his  attention. 

'  Ah  indeed  ! '  he  exclaimed  as  he  looked  up  to  her 
face.  '  I  had  not  a  notion  that  it  was  you  ! '  He  went 
over  and  shook  hands  with  Charlotte  De  Stancy. 

'  I  am  not  going  far,'  she  said ;  '  only  to  the  next 
station.  We  often  run  down  in  summer  time.  Are 
you  going  far  ?  ' 

'  I  am  going  to  a  building  further  on  ;  thence  to  Nor- 
mandy by  way  of  Cherbourg,  to  finish  out  my  holiday.' 

432 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

Miss  De  Stancy  thought  that  would  be  very  nice. 

'  Well,  I  hope  so.     But  I  fear  it  won't.' 

After  saying  that  Somerset  asked  himself  why  he 
should  mince  matters  with  so  genuine  and  sympathetic 
a  girl  as  Charlotte  De  Stancy  ?  She  could  tell  him 
particulars  which  he  burned  to  know.  He  might  never 
again  have  an  opportunity  of  knowing  them,  since  she 
and  he  would  probably  not  meet  for  years  to  come, 
if  at  all. 

'  Have  the  castle  works  progressed  pretty  rapidly 
under  the  new  architect  ?  '  he  accordingly  asked. 

'  Yes,'  said  Charlotte  in  her  haste — then  adding  that 
she  was  not  quite  sure  if  they  had  progressed  so  rapidly 
as  before ;  blushingly  correcting  herself  at  this  point 
and  that,  in  the  tinkering  manner  of  a  nervous  organiza- 
tion aiming  at  nicety  where  it  was  not  required. 

'  \\'ell,  I  should  have  liked  to  carry  out  the  under- 
taking to  its  end,'  said  Somerset.  '  But  I  felt  I  could 
not  consistently  do  so.  Miss  Power — '  (here  a  lump 
came  into  Somerset's  throat — so  responsive  was  he  yet 
to  her  image) — '  seemed  to  have  lost  confidence  in  me, 
and — it  was  best  that  the  connection  should  be  severed.' 

There  was  a  long  pause.  '  She  was  very  sorry  about 
it,'  said  Charlotte  gently, 

'  What  made  her  alter  so  ? — I  never  can  think  ! ' 

Charlotte  waited  again  as  if  to  accumulate  the 
necessary  force  for  honest  speaking  at  the  expense  of 
pleasantness.  '  It  was  the  telegram  that  began  it  of 
course,'  she  answered. 

'  Telegram  ? ' 

She  looked  up  at  him  in  (juite  a  frightened  way — 
little  as  there  was  to  be  frightened  at  in  a  cjuiet  fellow 
like  him  in  this  sad  time  of  his  life — and  said,  '  Yes  : 
some  telegram — I  think — when  you  were  in  trouI)le? 
Forgive  my  alluding  to  it ;  but  you  asked  mc  the 
question.' 

Somerset  began  reflecting  on  what  messages  he  had 

4.33  2  E 


A   LAODICEAN 

sent  Paula,  troublous  or  otherwise.  All  he  had  sent 
had  been  sent  from  the  castle,  and  were  as  gentle  and 
mellifluous  as  sentences  well  could  be  \vhich  had  neither 
articles  nor  pronouns.  '  I  don't  understand,'  he  said. 
*  Will  you  explain  a  little  more — as  plainly  as  you  like 
— without  minding  my  feelings  ?  ' 

'  A  telegram  from  Nice,  I  think  ?  ' 

*  I  never  sent  one.' 

'  O  !     The  one  I  meant  was  about  money.' 

Somerset  shook  his  head.  '  No,'  he  murmured,  with 
the  composure  of  a  man  who,  knowing  he  had  done 
nothing  of  the  sort  himself,  was  blinded  by  his  own 
honesty  to  the  possibility  that  another  might  have  done 
it  for  him.  '  That  must  be  some  other  affair  with 
which  I  had  nothing  to  do.  O  no,  it  was  nothing 
like  that ;  the  reason  for  her  change  of  manner  was 
quite  different !  ' 

So  timid  was  Charlotte  in  Somerset's  presence,  that 
her  timidity  at  this  juncture  amounted  to  blameworthi- 
ness. The  distressing  scene  which  must  have  followed 
a  clearing  up  there  and  then  of  any  possible  misunder- 
standing, terrified  her  imagination ;  and  quite  con- 
founded by  contradictions  that  she  could  not  reconcile, 
she  held  her  tongue,  and  nervously  looked  out  of  the 
window. 

'  I  have  heard  that  Miss  Power  is  soon  to  be  married,' 
continued  Somerset. 

'  Yes,'  Charlotte  murmured.  '  It  is  sooner  than  it 
ought  to  be  by  rights,  considering  how  recently  my  dear 
father  died ;  but  there  are  reasons  in  connection  with 
my  brother's  position  against  putting  it  off":  and  it  is 
to  be  absolutely  simple  and  private.' 

There  was  another  interval.  '  May  I  ask  when  it  is 
to  be  ?  '  he  said. 

'  Almost  at  once — this  week.' 

Somerset  started  back  as  if  some  stone  had  hit  his 
face. 

434 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

Still  there  was  nothing  wonderful  in  such  prompti- 
tude :  engagements  broken  in  upon  by  the  death  of  a 
near  relative  of  one  of  the  parties  had  been  often  carried 
out  in  a  subdued  form  with  no  longer  delay. 

Charlotte's  station  was  now  at  hand.  She  bade  him 
farewell ;  and  he  rattled  on  to  the  building  he  had  come 
to  inspect,  and  next  to  Budmouth,  whence  he  intended 
to  cross  the  Channel  by  steamboat  that  night. 

He  hardly  knew  how  the  evening  passed  away.  He 
had  taken  up  his  quarters  at  an  inn  near  the  quay, 
and  as  the  night  drew  on  he  stood  gazing  from  the 
coffee-room  window  at  the  steamer  outside,  which  nearly 
thrust  its  spars  through  the  bedroom  casements,  and  at 
the  goods  that  were  being  tumbled  on  board  as  only 
shippers  can  tumble  them.  All  the  goods  were  laden, 
a  lamp  was  put  on  each  side  the  gangway,  the  engines 
broke  into  a  crackling  roar,  and  people  began  to  enter. 
They  were  only  waiting  for  the  last  train  :  then  they 
would  be  off.  Still  Somerset  did  not  move ;  he  was 
thinking  of  that  curious  half-told  story  of  Charlotte's, 
about  a  telegram  to  Paula  for  money  from  Nice.  Not 
once  till  within  the  last  half-hour  had  it  recurred  to 
his  mind  that  he  had  met  Dare  both  at  Nice  and  at 
Monte  Carlo ;  that  at  the  latter  place  he  had  been 
absolutely  out  of  money  and  wished  to  borrow,  showing 
considerable  sinister  feeling  when  Somerset  declined  to 
lend  :  that  on  one  or  two  previous  occasions  he  had 
reasons  for  doubting  Dare's  probity ;  and  that  in  spite 
of  the  young  man's  impoverishment  at  Monte  Carlo  he 
had,  a  few  days  later,  beheld  him  in  shining  raiment  at 
Carlsruhe.  Somerset,  though  misty  in  his  conjectures, 
was  seized  with  a  growing  conviction  that  there  was 
something  in  Miss  De  Stancy's  allusion  to  the  telegram 
which  ought  to  be  explained. 

He  felt  an  insurmountable  objection  to  cross  the 
water  that  night,  or  till  he  had  been  able  to  see  Chnr- 
lotte    again,    and    learn    more    of  her    meaning.       He 

435 


A   LAODICEAN 

countermanded  the  order  to  put  his  luggage  on  board, 
watched  the  steamer  out  of  the  harbour,  and  went  to 
bed.  He  might  as  well  have  gone  to  battle,  for  any 
rest  that  he  got.  On  rising  the  next  morning  he  felt 
rather  blank,  though  none  the  less  convinced  that  a 
matter  required  investigation.  He  left  Budmouth  by 
a  morning  train,  and  about  eleven  o'clock  found  himself 
in  Markton. 

The  momentum  of  a  practical  inquiry  took  him 
through  that  ancient  borough  without  leaving  him 
much  leisure  for  those  reveries  which  had  yesterday 
lent  an  unutterable  sadness  to  every  object  there.  It 
was  just  before  noon  that  he  started  for  the  castle, 
intending  to  arrive  at  a  time  of  the  morning  when,  as 
he  knew  from  experience,  he  could  speak  to  Charlotte 
without  difficulty.  The  rising  ground  soon  revealed  the 
old  towers  to  him,  and,  jutting  out  behind  them,  the 
scaffoldings  for  the  new  wing. 

While  halting  here  on  the  knoll  in  some  doubt 
about  his  movements  he  beheld  a  man  coming  along 
the  road,  and  was  soon  confronted  by  his  former  com- 
petitor, Havill.  The  first  instinct  of  each  was  to  pass 
with  a  nod,  but  a  second  instinct  for  intercourse  was 
sufficient  to  bring  them  to  a  halt.  After  a  few  super- 
ficial words  had  been  spoken  Somerset  said,  '  You  have 
succeeded  me.' 

'  I  have,'  said  Havill ;  '  but  little  to  my  advantage. 
I  have  just  heard  that  my  commission  is  to  extend  no 
further  than  roofing  in  the  wing  that  you  began,  and 
had  I  known  that  before,  I  would  have  seen  the  castle 
fall  flat  as  Jericho  before  I  would  have  accepted  the 
superintendence.  But  I  know  who  I  have  to  thank 
for  that — De  Stancy.' 

Somerset  still  looked  towards  the  distant  battle- 
ments. On  the  scaffolding,  among  the  white-jacketed 
workmen,  he  could  discern  one  figure  in  a  dark  suit. 

'  You  have  a  clerk  of  the  works,  I  see,'  he  observed. 

436 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

'  Nominally  I  have,  but  practically  I  haven't.' 

'  Then  why  do  you  keep  him  ? 

*  I  can't  help  myself.  He  is  Mr.  Dare  :  and  having 
been  recommended  by  a  higher  power  than  I,  there 
he  must  stay  in  spite  of  mc.' 

'  AV'ho  recommended  him  ?  ' 

'The  same — De  Stancy.' 

'It  is  very  odd,'  murmured  Somerset,  'but  that 
young  man  is  the  object  of  my  visit.' 

'  You  had  better  leave  him  alone,'  said  Havill  drily. 

Somerset  asked  why. 

'  Since  I  call  no  man  master  over  that  way  I  will 
inform  you.'  Havill  then  related  in  splenetic  tones, 
to  which  Somerset  did  not  care  to  listen  till  the  story 
began  to  advance  itself,  how  he  had  passed  the  night 
with  Dare  at  the  inn,  and  the  incidents  of  that  night, 
relating  how  he  had  seen  some  letters  on  the  young 
man's  breast  which  long  had  puzzled  him.  'They 
were  an  E,  a  T,  an  N,  and  a  C.  I  thought  over  them 
long,  till  it  eventually  occurred  to  me  that  the  word 
when  filled  out  was  "  De  Stancy,"  and  that  kinship 
explains  the  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  between 
them.' 

'  But,  good  heavens,  man ! '  said  Somerset,  more 
and  more  disturbed.     '  Does  she  know  of  it  ?  ' 

'  You  may  depend  she  does  not  yet ;  but  she  will 
soon  enough.  Hark — there  it  is  ! '  The  notes  of  the 
castle  clock  were  heard  striking  noon.  '  Then  it  is 
all  over.' 

'  What  ? — not  their  marriage  ! ' 

'  Yes.  Didn't  you  know  it  was  the  wedding  day  ? 
They  were  to  be  at  the  church  at  half-past  eleven.  I 
should  have  waited  to  see  her  go,  but  it  was  no  sight 
to  hinder  business  for,  as  she  was  only  going  to  drive 
over  in  her  brougham  with  Miss  De  Stancy.' 

'  My  errand  has  failed  !  '  said  Somerset,  turning  on 
his  heel.     '  I'll  walk  back  to  the  town  with  you.' 

437 


A    LAODICEAN 


However  he  did  not  walk  far  with  Havill ;  society 
was  too  much  at  that  moment.  As  soon  as  oppor- 
tunity offered  he  branched  from  the  road  by  a  path, 
and  avoiding  the  town  went  by  railway  to  Budmouth, 
whence  he  resumed,  by  the  night  steamer,  his  journey 
to  Normandy 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 


XIII 

1  O  return  to  Charlotte  Do  Stancy.  When  the  train 
had  borne  Somerset  from  her  side,  and  she  had  regained 
her  self-possession,  she  became  conscious  of  the  true 
proportions  of  the  fact  he  had  asserted.  And,  further, 
if  the  telegram  had  not  been  his,  why  should  the  photo- 
graphic distortion  be  trusted  as  a  phase  of  his  exist- 
ence ?  But  after  a  while  it  seemed  so  improbable  to 
her  that  God's  sun  should  bear  false  witness,  that 
instead  of  doubting  both  evidences  she  was  inchned 
to  readmit  the  first.  Still,  upon  the  whole,  she  could 
not  question  for  long  the  honesty  of  Somerset's  denial  : 
and  if  that  message  had  indeed  been  sent  by  him,  it 
must  have  been  done  while  he  was  in  another  such 
an  unhappy  state  as  that  exemplified  by  the  portrait. 
I'he  supposition  reconciled  all  differences ;  and  yet  she 
could  not  but  fight  against  it  with  all  the  strength  of  a 
generous  affection. 

All  the  afternoon  her  poor  little  head  was  busy  on 
this  perturbing  question,  till  she  inquired  of  herself 
whether  after  all  it  might  not  be  possible  for  photographs 
to  represent  people  as  they  liad  never  been.  Before 
rejecting  the  hypothesis  she  determined  to  have  the  word 
of  a  professor  on  the  point,  which  would  be  better  than 
all  her  surmises.  Returning  to  Markton  early,  she  told 
the  coachman  whom  Paula  had  sent,  to  drive  her  to  the 

439 


A   LAODICEAN 

shop  of  Mr.  Ray,  an  ol)scure  photographic  artist  in  that 
town,  instead  of  straight  home. 

Ray's  estabhshment  consisted  of  two  divisions,  the 
respectable  and  the  shabby.  If,  on  entering  the  door, 
the  visitor  turned  to  the  left,  he  found  himself  in  a 
magazine  of  old  clothes,  old  furniture,  china,  umbrellas, 
guns,  fishing-rods,  dirty  fiddles,  and  split  flutes.  Enter- 
ing the  right-hand  room,  which  had  originally  been  that 
of  an  independent  house,  he  was  in  an  ordinary  photo- 
grapher's and  print-collector's  depository,  to  which  a 
certain  artistic  solidity  was  imparted  by  a  few  oil  paint- 
ings in  the  background.  Charlotte  made  for  the  latter 
department,  and  when  she  was  inside  Mr.  Ray  appeared 
in  person  from  the  lumber-shop  adjoining,  which,  despite 
its  manginess,  contributed  by  far  the  greater  share  to  his 
income. 

Charlotte  put  her  question  simply  enough.  The 
man  did  not  answer  her  directly,  but  soon  found  that 
she  meant  no  harm  to  him.  He  told  her  that  such 
misrepresentations  were  quite  possible,  and  that  they 
embodied  a  form  of  humour  which  was  getting  more 
and  more  into  vogue  among  certain  facetious  persons 
of  society. 

Charlotte  was  coming  away  when  she  asked,  as  on 
second  thoughts,  if  he  had  any  specimens  of  such  work 
to  show  her. 

'  None  of  my  own  preparation,'  said  Mr.  Ray,  with 
unimpeachable  probity  of  tone.  '  I  consider  them 
libellous  myself  Still,  I  have  one  or  two  samples  by 
me,  which  I  keep  merely  as  curiosities. — There's  one,' 
he  said,  throwing  out  a  portrait  card  from  a  drawer. 
'  That  represents  the  German  Emperor  in  a  violent 
passion  :  this  one  shows  the  Prime  Minister  out  of  his 
mind ;  this  the  Pope  of  Rome  the  worse  for  liquor.' 
>      She  inquired  if  he  had  any  local  specimens. 

'  Yes,'  he  said,  '  but  I  prefer  not  to  exhibit  them  unless 
you  really  ask  for  a  particular  one  that  you  mean  to  buy.' 

440 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

'  I  don't  want  any.' 

'  O,  I  beg  pardon,  miss.  Well,  I  shouldn't  myself 
have  known  such  things  were  produced,  if  there  had 
not  been  a  young  man  here  at  one  time  who  was  very 
ingenious  in  these  matters — a  Mr.  Dare.  He  was  quite 
a  gent,  and  only  did  it  as  an  amusement,  and  not  for 
the  sake  of  getting  a  living.' 

Charlotte  had  no  wish  to  hear  more.  On  her  way 
home  she  bufst  into  tears  :  the  entanglement  was  alto- 
gether too  much  for  her  to  tear  asunder,  even  had  not 
her  own  instincts  been  urging  her  two  ways,  as  they 
were. 

To  immediately  right  Somerset's  wrong  was  her 
impetuous  desire  as  an  honest  woman  who  loved  him ; 
but  such  rectification  would  be  the  jeopardizing  of  all 
else  that  gratified  her — the  marriage  of  her  brother  with 
her  dearest  friend — now  on  the  very  point  of  accom- 
plishment. It  was  a  marriage  which  seemed  to  promise 
happiness,  or  at  least  comfort,  if  the  old  flutter  that  had 
transiently  disturbed  Paula's  bosom  could  be  kept  from 
reviving,  to  which  end  it  became  imperative  to  hide 
from  her  the  discovery  of  injustice  to  Somerset.  It  in- 
volved the  advantage  of  leaving  Somerset  free;  and 
though  her  own  tender  interest  in  him  had  been  too  well 
schooled  by  habitual  self-denial  to  run  ahead  on  vain 
personal  hopes,  thLrc  was  nothing  more  than  human  in 
her  feeling  pleasure  in  prolonging  Somerset's  singleness. 
Paula  might  even  be  allowed  to  discover  his  wrongs 
when  her  marriage  had  put  him  out  of  her  power.  But 
to  let  her  discover  his  ill-treatment  now  might  upset  tlic 
impending  union  of  the  families,  and  wring  lier  own 
heart  with  the  sight  of  Somerset  married  in  her  brother's 
place. 

Why  Dare,  or  any  other  person,  should  have  set 
himself  to  advance  her  brother's  cause  by  such  unscrupu- 
lous blackening  of  Somerset's  character  was  more  than 
her  sagacity  could  fathom.      Her  brother  was,  as  far  as 

441 


A    LAODICEAN 

she  could  see,  the  only  man  who  could  directly  profit  by 
the  machination,  and  was  therefore  the  natural  one  to 
suspect  of  having  set  it  going.  But  she  would  not  be 
so  disloyal  as  to  entertain  the  thought  long ;  and  who 
or  what  had  instigated  Dare,  who  was  undoubtedly  the 
proximate  cause  of  the  mischief,  remained  to  her  an 
inscrutable  mystery. 

The  contention  of  interests  and  desires  with  honour 
in  her  heart  shook  Charlotte  all  that  night ;  but  good 
principle  prevailed.  The  wedding  was  to  be  solemnized 
the  very  next  morning,  though  for  before-mentioned 
reasons  this  was  hardly  known  outside  the  two  houses 
interested ;  and  there  were  no  visible  preparations  either 
at  villa  or  castle.  De  Stancy  and  his  groomsman — a 
brother  officer — slept  at  the  former  residence. 

De  Stancy  was  a  sorry  specimen  of  a  bridegroom 
when  he  met  his  sister  in  the  morning.  Thick-coming 
fancies,  for  which  there  was  more  than  good  reason,  had 
disturbed  him  only  too  successfully,  and  he  was  as  full 
of  apprehension  as  one  who  has  a  league  with  Mephisto- 
pheles.  Charlotte  told  him  nothing  of  what  made  her 
likewise  so  wan  and  anxious,  but  drove  off  to  the  castle, 
as  had  been  planned,  about  nine  o'clock,  leaving  her 
brother  and  his  friend  at  the  breakfast-table. 

That  clearing  Somerset's  reputation  from  the  stain 
which  had  been  thrown  on  it  would  cause  a  sufficient 
reaction  in  Paula's  mind  to  dislocate  present  arrange- 
ments she  did  not  so  seriously  anticipate,  now  that 
morning  had  a  little  calmed  her.  Since  the  rupture 
with  her  former  architect  Paula  had  sedulously  kept  her 
own  counsel,  but  Charlotte  assumed  from  the  ease  with 
which  she  seemed  to  do  it  that  her  feelings  towards  him 
had  never  been  inconveniently  warm;  and  she  hoped 
that  Paula  would  learn  of  Somerset's  purity  with  merely 
the  generous  pleasure  of  a  friend,  coupled  with  a  friend's 
indignation  against  his  traducer. 

'-    Still,  the  possibility  existed  of  stronger  emotions,  and 

442 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

it  was  only  too  evident  to  poor  Charlotte  that,  knowing 
this,  she  had  still  less  excuse  for  delaying  the  intelligence 
till  the  strongest  emotion  would  be  purposeless. 

On  approaching  the  castle  the  first  object  that  caught 
her  eye  was  Dare,  standing  beside  Havill  on  the  scaffold- 
ing of  the  new  wing.  He  was  looking  down  upon  the 
drive  and  court,  as  if  in  anticipation  of  the  event.  His 
contiguity  flurried  her,  and  instead  of  going  straight  to 
Paula  she  sought  out  Mrs.  Goodman. 

'  You  are  come  early ;  that's  right ! '  said  the  latter. 
'  You  might  as  well  have  slept  here  last  night.  We  have 
only  Mr.  Wardlaw,  the  London  lawyer  you  have  heard 
of,  in  the  house.  Your  brother's  solicitor  was  here 
yesterday;  but  he  returned  to  Markton  for  the  night. 
We  miss  Mr.  Power  so  much — it  is  so  unfortunate  that 
he  should  have  been  obliged  to  go  abroad,  and  leave  us 
unprotected  women  with  so  much  responsibility.' 

'  Yes,  I  know,'  said  Charlotte  quickly,  having  a  shy 
distaste  for  the  details  of  what  troubled  her  so  much  in 
the  gross. 

'  Paula  has  inquired  for  you.' 

'  What  is  she  doing  ?  ' 

'  She  is  in  her  room  :  she  has  not  begun  to  dress  yet. 
Will  you  go  to  her  ? ' 

Charlotte  assented.  '  I  have  to  tell  her  something,' 
she  said,  '  which  will  make  no  difference,  but  which  I 
should  like  her  to  know  this  morning — at  once.  I  have 
discovered  that  we  have  been  entirely  mistaken  about 
Mr.  Somerset.'  She  nerved  herself  to  relate  succinctly 
what  had  come  to  her  knowledge  the  day  before. 

Mrs.  Goodman  was  much  impressed.  She  had  never 
clearly  heard  before  what  circumstances  had  attended 
the  resignation  of  Paula's  architect.  '  We  had  better 
not  tell  her  till  the  wedding  is  over,'  she  presently  said  ; 
'  it  would  only  disturb  her,  and  do  no  good.' 

'  But  will  it  be  right  ? '  asked  Miss  De  Stancy. 

*  Yes,  it  will  be  right  if  we  tell  her  afterwards,     O 

443 


A   LAODICEAN 

yes — it  must  be  right,'  she  repeated  in  a  tone  which 
showed  that  her  opinion  was  unstable  enough  to  re- 
quire a  little  fortification  by  the  voice.  '  She  loves  your 
brother ;  she  must,  since  she  is  going  to  marry  him ; 
and  it  can  make  little  difference  whether  we  rehabilitate 
the  character  of  a  friend  now,  or  some  few  hours  hence. 
The  author  of  those  wicked  tricks  on  Mr.  Somerset 
ought  not  to  go  a  moment  unpunished.' 

'  That's  what  I  think  ;  and  what  right  have  we  to 
hold  our  tongues  even  for  a  few  hours  ? ' 

Charlotte  found  that  by  telling  Mrs.  Goodman  she 
had  simply  made  two  irresolute  people  out  of  one,  and, 
as  Paula  was  now  inquiring  for  her,  she  went  upstairs 
without  having  come  to  any  decision. 


DE   STANCY  AND   PAULA 


XIV 

i  AULA  was  in  her  boudoir,  writing  down  some  notes 
previous  to  beginning  her  wedding  toilet,  which  was 
designed  to  harmonize  with  the  simphcity  that  charac- 
terized the  other  arrangements.  She  owned  that  it  was 
depriving  the  neighbourhood  of  a  pageant  which  it 
had  a  right  to  expect  of  her ;  but  the  circumstance  was 
inexorable. 

Mrs.  Goodman  entered  Paula's  room  immediately 
behind  Charlotte.  Perhaps  the  only  difference  between 
the  Paula  of  to-day  and  the  Paula  of  last  year  was  an 
accession  of  thoughtfulness,  natural  to  the  circumstances 
in  any  case,  and  more  particularly  when,  as  now,  the 
bride's  isolation  made  self-dependence  a  necessity.  She 
was  sitting  in  a  light  dressing-gown,  and  her  face,  which 
was  rather  pale,  flushed  at  the  entrance  of  Charlotte 
and  her  aunt. 

'  I  knew  you  were  come,'  she  said,  when  Charlotte 
stooped  and  kissed  her.  '  I  heard  you.  I  have  done 
nothing  this  morning,  and  feel  dreadfully  unsettled. 
Is  all  well?' 

The  question  was  put  without  thought,  but  its  apt- 
ness seemed  almost  to  imply  an  intuitive  knowledge 
of  their  previous  conversation.  'Yes,'  said  Charlotte 
tardily. 

'Well,  now,  Clementine  shall  dress  you,  and  I  can 

445 


A   LAODICEAN 

do  with  Milly,'  continued  Paula.  '  Come  along. — 
Well,  aunt — what's  the  matter  ? — and  you,  Charlotte  ? 
You  look  harassed.' 

'  I  have  not  slept  well,'  said  Charlotte. 

'  And  have  not  you  slept  well  either,  aunt  ?  You  said 
nothing  about  it  at  breakfast.' 

'  O,  it  is  nothing,'  said  Mrs.  Goodman  quickly. 
'  I  have  been  disturbed  by  learning  of  somebody's 
villainy.  1  am  going  to  tell  you  all  some  time 
to-day,  but  it  is  not  important  enough  to  disturb  you 
with  now.' 

'  No  mystery  ! '  argued  Paula.  '  Come  !  it  is  not 
fair.' 

'  I  don't  think  it  is  quite  fair,'  said  Miss  De  Stancy, 
looking  from  one  to  the  other  in  some  distress.  '  Mrs. 
Goodman — I  must  tell  her  !     Paula,  Mr.  Som ' 

'  He's  dead  ! '  cried  Paula,  sinking  into  a  chair  and 
turning  as  pale  as  marble.  '  Is  he  dead  ? — tell  me ! ' 
she  whispered. 

'  No,  no — he's  not  dead — he  is  very  well,  and  gone 
to  Normandy  for  a  holiday  ! ' 

'  O — I  am  glad  to  hear  it,'  answered  Paula,  with  a 
sudden  cool  mannerliness. 

'  He  has  been  misrepresented,'  said  Mrs.  Goodman. 
'  That's  all' 

'  Well  ?  '  said  Paula,  with  her  eyes  bent  on  the 
floor. 

'  I  have  been  feeling  that  I  ought  to  tell  you  clearly, 
dear  Paula,'  declared  her  friend.  '  It  is  absolutely  false 
about  his  telegraphing  to  you  for  money — it  is  abso- 
lutely false  that  his  character  is  such  as  that  dreadful 
picture  represented  it.  There — that's  the  substance  of 
it,  and  I  can  tell  you  particulars  at  any  time.' 

But  Paula  would  not  be  told  at  any  time.  A 
dreadful  sorrow  sat  in  her  face;  she  insisted  upon 
learning  everything  about  the  matter  there  and  then, 
and  there  was  no  withstanding  her. 

446 


.  DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

When  it  was  all  explained  she  said  in  a  low  tone : 
'  It  is  that  pernicious,  evil  man  Dare — yet  why  is 
it  he  ? — what  can  he  have  meant  by  it !  J  ustice 
before  generosity,  even  on  one's  wedding-day.  Before 
I  become  any  man's  wife  this  morning  I'll  see  that 
wretch  in  jail  1  The  afdiir  must  be  sifted.  ...  O,  it 
was  a  wicked  thing  to  serve  anybody  so  ! — I'll  send 
for  Cunningham  Haze  this  moment — the  culprit  is  even 
now  on  the  premises,  I  believe — acting  as  clerk  of  the 
works  ! '  The  usually  well-balanced  Paula  was  excited, 
and  scarcely  knowing  what  she  did  went  to  the  bell-pull. 

'  Don't  act  hastily,  Paula,'  said  her  aunt.  '  Had 
you  not  better  consult  Sir  ^^'illiam  ?  He  will  act  for 
you  in  this.' 

'  Yes. — He  is  coming  round  in  a  few  minutes,'  said 
Charlotte,  jumping  at  this  happy  thought  of  Mrs. 
Goodman's. 

'  He's  going  to  run  across  to  see  how  you  are  getting 
on.      He  will  be  here  by  ten.' 

'  Yes — he  promised  last  night.' 

She  had  scarcely  done  speaking  when  the  prancing 
of  a  horse  was  heard  in  the  ward  below,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  a  servant  announced  Sir  William  De  Stancy. 

De  Stancy  entered  saying,  '  I  have  ridden  across 
for  ten  minutes,  as  I  said  I  would  do,  to  know  if 
everything  is  easy  and  straightforward  for  you.  There 
will  be  time  enough  for  me  to  get  back  and  prepare 
if  I  start  shordy.      Well  ?  ' 

'  I  am  ruffled,'  said  Paula,  allowing  him  to  take  her 
hand. 

'  What  is  it  ?  '  said  her  betrothed. 

As  Paula  did  not  immediately  answer  Mrs.  Goodman 
beckoned  to  Charlotte,  and  they  left  the  room  together. 

'  A  man  has  to  be  given  in  charge,  or  a  boy,  or  a 
demon,'  she  replied.  '  I  was  going  to  do  it,  but  you 
can  do  it  better  than  I.  He  will  run  away  if  we  don't 
mind.' 

447 


A    LAODICEAN 

'  But,  my  dear  Paula,  who  is  it  ? — what  has  he 
done  ? ' 

'  It  is  Dare — that  young  man  you  see  out  there 
against  the  sky.'  She  looked  from  the  window  sideways 
towards  the  new  wing,  on  the  roof  of  which  Dare  was 
walking  prominently  about,  after  having  assisted  two  of 
the  workmen  in  putting  a  red  streamer  on  the  tallest 
scaffold-pole.  '  You  must  send  instantly  for  Mr. 
Cunningham  Haze  ! ' 

'  My  dearest  Paula,'  repeated  De  Stancy  faintly,  his 
complexion  changing  to  that  of  a  man  who  had  died. 

'  Please  send  for  Mr.  Haze  at  once,'  returned  Paula, 
with  graceful  firmness.  '  I  said  I  would  he  just  to  a 
wronged  man  before  I  was  generous  to  you — and  I 
will.  That  lad  Dare — to  take  a  practical  view  of  it — 
has  attempted  to  defraud  me  of  one  hundred  pounds 
sterling,  and  he  shall  suffer.  I  won't  tell  you  what  he 
has  done  besides,  for  though  it  is  worse,  it  is  less 
tangible.  When  he  is  handcuffed  and  sent  off  to  jail 
I'll  proceed  with  my  dressing.     Will  you  ring  the  bell  ? ' 

'  Had  you  not  better  consider  ? '  began  De  Stancy. 

'  Consider  !  '  said  Paula,  with  indignation.  '  I  have 
considered.  Will  you  kindly  ring.  Sir  William,  and  get 
Thomas  to  ride  at  once  to  Mr.  Haze?  Or  must  I 
rise  from  this  chair  and  do  it  myself? ' 

'  You  are  very  hasty  and  abrupt  this  morning,  I 
think,'  he  faltered. 

Paula  rose  determinedly  from  the  chair. 

'  Since  you  won't  do  it,  I  must,'  she  said. 

'  No,  dearest ! — Let  me  beg  you  not  to  ! ' 

'  Sir  William  De  Stancy  ! ' 

She  moved  towards  the  bell-pull;  but  he  stepped 
before  and  intercepted  her. 

'  You  must  not  ring  the  bell  for  that  purpose,'  he 
said  with  husky  deliberateness,  looking  into  the  depths 
of  her  face. 

'  It  wants  two  hours   to  the  time  when    you   might 

4^8 


DE   STANCY   AND    PAULA 

have  a  right  to  express  such  a  command  as  that,'  she 
said  haughtily. 

'  I  certainly  have  not  the  honour  to  be  your  husband 
yet,'  he  sadly  replied,  '  but  surely  you  oin  listen  ?  I'here 
exist  reasons  against  giving  this  boy  in  charge  which  I 
could  easily  get  you  to  admit  by  explanation ;  but  I 
would  rather,  without  explanation,  have  you  take  my 
word,  when  I  say  that  by  doing  so  you  are  striking  a 
blow  against  both  yourself  and  me.' 

Paula,  however,  had  rung  the  bell. 

'  You  are  jealous  of  somebody  or  something  perhaps  ! ' 
she  said,  in  tones  which  showed  how  fatally  all  this  was 
telling  against  the  intention  of  that  day.  '  I  will  not  be 
a  party  to  baseness,  if  it  is  to  save  all  my  fortune  ! ' 

The  bell  was  answered  quickly.  But  De  Stancy, 
though  plainly  in  great  misery,  did  not  give  up  his 
point.  IMeeting  the  servant  at  the  door  before  he 
could  enter  the  room  he  said.  '  It  is  nothing ;  you  can 
go  again.' 

Paula  looked  at  the  unhappy  baronet  in  amazement ; 
then  turning  to  the  servant,  who  stood  with  the  door  in 
his  hand,  said,  '  Tell  Thomas  to  saddle  the  chestnut, 
and ' 

'  It's  all  a  mistake,'  insisted  De  Stancy.  '  Leave  the 
room,  James  ! ' 

James  looked  at  his  mistress. 

'  Yes,  James,  leave  the  room,'  she  calmly  said,  sitting 
down.  '  Now  what  have  you  to  say  ?  '  she  asked,  when 
they  were  again  alone.  '  Why  must  I  not  issue  orders 
in  my  own  house?  Who  is  this  young  criminal,  that 
you  value  his  interests  higher  than  my  honour  ?  I 
have  delayed  for  one  moment  sending  my  messenger 
to  the  chief  constable  to  hear  your  explanation — only 
for  that.' 

'  You  will  still  persevere  ?  ' 

'  Certainly.      Who  is  he  ?  ' 

'  Paula  .   .   .  he  is  my  son.' 

449  2  F 


A   LAODICEAN 


She  remained  still  as  death  while  one  might  count 
ten ;  then  turned  her  back  upon  him.  '  I  think  you 
had  better  go  away,'  she  whispered.  '  You  need  not 
come  again.' 

He  did  not  move.  '  Paula — do  you  indeed  mean 
this  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  I  do.' 

De  Stancy  walked  a  few  paces,  then  said  in  a  low 
voice :  '  Miss  Power,  I  knew — I  guessed  just  now,  as 
soon  as  it  began — that  we  were  going  to  split  on  this 
rock.  Well — let  it  be — it  cannot  be  helped  ;  destiny  is 
supreme.  The  boy  was  to  be  my  ruin ;  he  is  my  ruin, 
and  rightly.  But  before  I  go  grant  me  one  request. 
Do  not  prosecute  him.  Believe  me,  I  Vvill  do  every- 
thing I  can  to  get  him  out  of  your  way.  He  shall  annoy 
you  no  more.  .   .  .  Do  you  promise  ? ' 

'  I  do,'  she  said.     '  Now  please  leave  me.' 

'  Once  more — am  I  to  understand  that  no  marriage 
is  to  take  place  to-day  between  you  and  me  ? ' 

'  You  are.' 

Sir  William  De  Stancy  left  the  room.  It  was  notice- 
able throughout  the  interview  that  his  manner  had  not 
been  the  manner  of  a  man  altogether  taken  by  surprise. 
During  the  few  preceding  days  his  mood  had  been 
that  of  the  gambler  seasoned  in  ill-luck,  who  adopts 
pessimist  surmises  as  a  safe  background  to  his  most 
sanguine  hopes. 

She  remained  alone  for  some  time.  Then  she  rang, 
and  requested  that  Mr.  Wardlaw,  her  father's  solicitor 
and  friend,  would  come  up  to  her.  A  messenger  was 
despatched,  not  to  Mr.  Cunningham  Haze,  but  to  the 
parson  of  the  parish,  who  in  his  turn  sent  to  the  clerk 
and  clerk's  wife,  then  busy  in  the  church.  On  receipt 
of  the  intelligence  the  two  latter  functionaries  proceeded 
to  roll  up  the  carpet  which  had  been  laid  from  the 
door  to  the  gate,  put  away  the  kneeling-cushions,  locked 
the  doors,  and  went   off  to   inquire   the   reason    of  so 

45° 


DE   STANCY   AND   PAULA 

Strange  a  countermand.  It  was  soon  proclaimed  in 
Markton  that  the  marriage  had  l^een  postponed  for  a 
fortnight  in  consequence  of  the  bride's  sudden  indis- 
position :  and  less  public  emotion  was  felt  than  the 
case  might  have  drawn  forth,  from  the  ignorance  of  the 
majority  of  the  populace  that  a  wedding  had  been  going 
to  take  place  at  all. 

Meanwhile  Miss  De  Stancy  had  been  closeted  with 
Paula  for  more  than  an  hour.  It  was  a  difficult  meet- 
ing, and  a  severe  test  to  any  friendship  but  that  of  the 
most  sterling  sort.  In  the  turmoil  of  her  distraction 
Charlotte  had  the  consolation  of  knowing  that  if  her 
act  of  justice  to  Somerset  at  such  a  moment  were  the 
act  of  a  simpleton,  it  w^as  the  only  course  open  to 
honesty.  But  Paula's  cheerful  serenity  in  some  measure 
laid  her  own  troubles  to  rest,  till  they  were  reawakened 
by  a  rumour — which  got  wind  some  weeks  later,  and 
quite  drowned  all  other  surprises — of  the  true  relation 
between  the  vanished  clerk  of  works,  !Mr.  Dare,  and 
the  fallen  family  of  De  Stancy. 


BOOK  THE  SIXTH 


PAULA 


PAULA 


BOOK  THE  SIXTH 
PAULA 


1  HAVE  decided  that  I  cannot  see  Sir  William  again  : 
I  shall  go  away,'  said  Paula  on  the  evening  of  the  next 
da}',  as  she  lay  on  her  bed  in  a  flushed  and  highly- 
strung  condition,  though  a  person  who  had  heard  her 
words  without  seeing  her  face  would  have  assumed 
perfect  equanimity  to  be  the  mood  which  expressed 
itself  with  such  cpietness.  This  was  the  case  with  her 
aunt,  who  was  looking  out  of  the  window  at  some 
idlers  from  Markton  walking  round  the  castle  with 
their  eyes  bent  upon  its  windows,  and  she  made  no 
haste  to  reply. 

'^rhose  people  have  come  to  see  mc,  as  they  have 
a  right  to  do  when  a  person  acts  so  strangely,'  Paula 
continued.     '  And  hence  I  am  Ijettcr  away.' 

'  Where  do  you  think  to  go  to  ?  ' 

J'aula  replied  in  the  tone  of  one  who  was  actuated 
entirely  by  practical  considerations  :  '  Out  of  England 
certainly.  And  as  Normandy  lies  nearest,  I  think  I 
shall  go  there.     It  is  a  very  nice  country  to  ramble  in.' 

'  Yes,  it  is  a  very  nice  country  to  ramble  in,'  echoed 
her  aunt,  in  moderate  tones.  '  When  do  you  intend 
to  start  ? ' 

455 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  I  should  like  to  cross  to-night.  You  must  go  with 
me,  aunt ;  will  you  not  ?  ' 

Mrs.  Goodman  expostulated  against  such  suddenness. 
'  It  will  redouble  the  rumours  that  are  afloat,  if,  after 
being  supposed  ill,  you  are  seen  going  off  by  railway 
perfectly  well.' 

'  That's  a  contingency  which  I  am  quite  willing  to 
run  the  risk  of.  Well,  it  would  be  rather  sudden,  as 
you  say,  to  go  to-night.  But  we'll  go  to-morrow  night 
at  latest.'  Under  the  influence  of  the  decision  she 
bounded  up  like  an  elastic  ball  and  went  to  the  glass, 
which  showed  a  light  in  her  eye  that  had  not  been  there 
before  this  resolution  to  travel  in  Normandy  had  been 
taken. 

The  evening  and  the  next  morning  were  passed  in 
writing  a  final  and  kindly  note  of  dismissal  to  Sir  William 
De  Stancy,  in  making  arrangements  for  the  journey, 
and  in  commissioning  Havill  to  take  advantage  of  their 
absence  by  emptying  certain  rooms  of  their  furniture,  and 
repairing  their  dilapidations — a  work  which,  with  that  in 
hand,  would  complete  the  section  for  which  he  had  been 
engaged.  Mr.  Wardlaw  had  left  the  castle ;  so  also  had 
Charlotte,  by  her  own  wish,  her  residence  there  having 
been  found  too  oppressive  to  herself  to  be  continued 
for  the  present.  Accompanied  by  Mrs.  Goodman, 
Milly,  and  Clementine,  the  elderly  French  maid,  who 
still  remained  with  them,  Paula  drove  into  Markton  in 
the  twilight  and  took  the  train  to  Budmouth. 

When  they  got  there  they  found  that  an  unpleasant 
breeze  was  blowing  out  at  sea,  though  inland  it  had 
been  calm  enough.  Mrs.  Goodman  projiosed  to  stay  at 
Budmouth  till  the  next  day,  in  hope  that  there  might 
be  smooth  water ;  but  an  English  seaport  inn  being  a 
thing  that  Paula  disliked  more  than  a  rough  passage, 
she  would  not  listen  to  this  counsel.  Other  impatient 
reasons,  too,  might  have  weighed  with  her.  When 
night  came  their  looming  miseries  began.     Paula  found 

456 


PAULA 

that  in  addition  to  her  own  troubles  she  had  those  of 
three  other  people  to  support ;  but  she  did  not  audibly 
complain. 

'  Paula,  Paula,'  said  Mrs.  Goodman  from  beneath 
her  load  of  wretchedness,  *  why  did  we  think  of  under- 
going this  ? ' 

A  slight  gleam  of  humour  crossed  Paula's  not 
particularly  blooming  face,  as  she  answered,  '  Ah,  why 
indeed  ? ' 

'  What  is  the  real  reason,  my  dear  ?  For  God's 
sake  tell  me  I ' 

'  It  begins  with  S.' 

'  Well,  I  would  do  anything  for  that  young  man 
short  of  personal  martyrdom ;  but  really  when  it  comes 
to  that ' 

'  Don't  criticize  me,  auntie,  and  I  won't  criticize 
you.' 

'  Well,  I  am  open  to  criticism  just  now,  I  am  sure,' 
said  her  aunt,  with  a  green  smile ;  and  speech  was  again 
discontinued. 

The  morning  was  bright  and  beautiful,  and  it  could 
again  be  seen  in  Paula's  looks  that  she  was  glad  she 
had  come,  though,  in  taking  their  rest  at  Cherbourg,  fate 
consigned  them  to  an  hotel  breathing  an  atmosphere 
that  seemed  specially  compounded  for  depressing  the 
spirits  of  a  young  woman  ;  indeed  nothing  had  particu- 
larly encouraged  her  thus  far  in  her  somewhat  peculiar 
scheme  of  searching  out  and  expressing  sorrow  to  a 
gentleman  for  having  believed  those  who  traduced  him ; 
and  this  coup  d^audace  to  which  she  had  committed  her- 
self began  to  look  somewhat  formidable.  When  in 
England  the  plan  of  following  him  to  Normandy  had 
suggested  itself  as  the  quickest,  sweetest,  and  most 
honest  way  of  making  amends  ;  but  having  arrived  there 
she  seemed  further  off  from  liis  sphere  of  existence  tlian 
when  she  had  been  at  Stancy  Castle.  Virtually  she 
was,  for  if  he  thought  of  her  at  all,  he  probably  thought 

457 


A   LAODICEAN 

of  her  there ;  if  he  sought  her  he  would  seek  her  there. 
However,  as  he  would  probably  never  do  the  latter,  it 
was  necessary  to  go  on.  It  had  been  her  sudden  dream, 
before  starting,  to  light  accidentally  upon  him  in  some 
romantic  old  town  of  this  romantic  old  province,  but 
she  had  become  aware  that  the  recorded  fortune  of 
lovers  in  that  respect  was  not  to  be  trusted  too  im- 
plicitly. 

Somerset's  search  for  her  in  the  south  was  now 
inversely  imitated.  By  diligent  inquiry  in  Cherbourg 
during  the  gloom  of  evening,  in  the  disguise  of  a  hooded 
cloak,  she  learnt  out  the  place  of  his  stay  while  there, 
and  that  he  had  gone  thence  to  Lisieux.  What  she 
knew  of  the  architectural  character  of  Lisieux  half 
guaranteed  the  truth  of  the  information.  AVithout 
telling  her  aunt  of  this  discovery  she  announced  to  that 
lady  that  it  was  her  great  wish  to  go  on  and  see  the 
beauties  of  Lisieux. 

But  though  her  aunt  was  simple,  there  were  bounds 
to  her  simplicity.  '  Paula,'  she  said,  with  an  un- 
deceivable  air,  '  I  don't  think  you  should  run  after  a 
young  man  like  this.  Suppose  he  shouldn't  care  for 
you  by  this  time.' 

It  was  no  occasion  for  further  affectation.  '  I  am 
sure  he  will,'  answered  her  niece  flatly.  '  I  have  not  the 
least  fear  about  it ;  nor  would  you,  if  you  Icnew  how  he 
is.      He  will  forgive  me  anything.' 

'  Well,  pray  don't  show  yourself  forward.  Some 
people  are  apt  to  fly  into  extremes.' 

Paula  blushed  a  trifle,  and  reflected,  and  made  no 
answer.  However,  her  purpose  seemed  not  to  be  per- 
manently affected,  for  the  next  morning  she  was  up 
betimes  and  preparing  to  depart ;  and  they  proceeded 
almost  without  stopping  to  the  architectural  curiosity- 
town  which  had  so  quickly  interested  her.  Nevertheless 
her  ardent  manner  of  yesterday  underwent  a  consider- 
able change,  as  if  she  had  a  fear   that,  as   her  aunt 

458 


PAULA 

suggested,  in  her  endeavour  to  make  amends  for  cruel 
injustice,  she  was  allowing  herself  to  be  carried  too  far. 

On  nearing  the  place  she  said,  '  Aunt,  I  think  you 
had  better  call  upon  him  ;  and  you  need  not  tell  him 
we  have  come  on  purpose.  Let  him  think,  if  he  will, 
that  we  heard  he  was  here,  and  would  not  leave  without 
seeing  him.  You  can  also  tell  him  that  I  am  anxious 
to  clear  up  a  misunderstanding,  and  ask  him  to  call  at 
our  hotel.' 

But  as  she  looked  over  the  dreary  suburban  erections 
which  lined  the  road  from  the  railway  to  the  old  quarter 
of  the  town,  it  occurred  to  her  that  Somerset  would  at 
that  time  of  day  be  engaged  in  one  or  other  of  the 
medieval  buildings  thereabout,  and  that  it  would  be  a 
much  neater  thing  to  meet  him  as  if  by  chance  in  one 
of  these  edifices  than  to  call  upon  him  anywhere. 
Instead  of  putting  up  at  any  hotel,  they  left  the  maids 
and  baggage  at  the  station ;  and  hiring  a  carriage,  Paula 
told  the  coachman  to  drive  them  to  such  likely  places 
as  she  could  think  of. 

'  He'll  never  forgive  you,'  said  her  aunt,  as  they 
rumbled  into  the  town. 

'  Won't  he  ?  '  said  Paula,  with  soft  faith.  '  I'll  see 
about  that.' 

'  What  are  you  going  to  do  when  you  find  him  ? 
Tell  him  point-blank  that  you  are  in  love  with  him  ? ' 

'  Act  in  such  a  manner  that  he  may  tell  me  he  is  in 
love  with  me.' 

They  first  visited  a  large  church  at  the  upper  end  of 
a  square  that  sloped  its  gravelled  surface  to  the  western 
shine,  and  was  pricked  out  with  little  avenues  of  young 
pollard  limes.  The  church  within  was  one  to  make 
any  Gothic  architect  take  lodgings  in  its  vicinity  for  a 
fortnight,  though  it  was  just  now  crowded  with  a  forest 
of  scaffolding  for  repairs  in  progress.  Mrs.  Goodman 
sat  down  outside,  and  Paula,  entering,  took  a  walk  in 
the  form  of  a  horse-shoe;  that  is,  up  the  south  aisle, 

459 


A   LAODICEAN 

round  the  apse,  and  down  the  north  side;  but  no 
figure  of  a  melancholy  young  man  sketching  met  her 
eye  anywhere.  The  sun  that  blazed  in  at  the  west 
doorway  smote  her  face  as  she  emerged  from  beneath 
it,  and  revealed  real  sadness  there. 

'  This  is  not  all  the  old  architecture  of  the  town  by 
far,'  she  said  to  her  aunt  with  an  air  of  confidence. 
'  Coachman,  drive  to  St.  Jacques'.' 

He  was  not  at  St.  Jacques'.  Looking  from  the  west 
end  of  that  building  the  girl  observed  the  end  of  a 
steep  narrow  street  of  antique  character,  which  seemed 
a  likely  haunt.  Beckoning  to  her  aunt  to  follow  in  the 
fly  Paula  walked  down  the  street. 

She  was  transported  to  the  Middle  Ages.  It  con- 
tained the  shops  of  tinkers,  braziers,  bellows-menders, 
hollow-turners,  and  other  quaintest  trades,  their  fronts 
open  to  the  street  beneath  stories  of  timber  overhanging 
so  far  on  each  side  that  a  slit  of  sky  was  left  at  the 
top  for  the  light  to  descend,  and  no  more.  A  blue 
misty  obscurity  pervaded  the  atmosphere,  into  which 
the  sun  thrust  oblique  staves  of  light.  It  was  a  street 
for  a  mediae valist  to  revel  in,  toss  up  his  hat  and  shout 
hurrah  in,  send  for  his  luggage,  come  and  live  in,  die 
and  be  buried  in.  She  had  never  supposed  such  a 
street  to  exist  outside  the  imaginations  of  antiquarians. 
Smells  direct  from  the  sixteenth  century  hung  in  the 
air  in  all  their  original  integrity  and  without  a  modern 
taint.  The  faces  of  the  people  in  the  doorways  seemed 
those  of  individuals  who  habitually  gazed  on  the  great 
Francis,  and  spoke  of  Henry  the  Eighth  as  the  king 
across  the  sea. 

She  inquired  of  a  coppersmith  if  an  English  artist 
had  been  seen  here  lately.  With  a  suddenness  that 
almost  discomfited  her  he  announced  that  such  a  man 
had  been  seen,  sketching  a  house  just  below — the 
'  Vieux  Manoir  de  Frangois  premier.'  Just  turning  to 
see   that    her    aunt    was    following    in    the    fly,    Paula 

4.60 


PAULA 

advanced  to  the  house.  The  wood  framework  of  the 
lower  story  was  black  and  varnished ;  the  upper  story 
was  brown  and  not  varnished ;  carved  figures  of 
dragons,  griffins,  satyrs,  and  mermaids  swarmed  over 
the  front ;  an  ape  stealing  apples  was  tlie  subject  of 
this  cantilever,  a  man  undressing  of  that.  These  figures 
were  cloaked  with  little  cobwebs  which  waved  in  the 
breeze,  so  that  each  figure  seemed  alive. 

She  examined  the  woodwork  closely ;  here  and 
there  she  discerned  pencil- marks  which  had  no  doubt 
been  jotted  thereon  by  Somerset  as  points  of  admea- 
surement, in  the  way  she  had  seen  him  mark  them  at 
the  castle.  Some  fragments  of  paper  lay  below :  there 
were  pencilled  lines  on  them,  and  they  bore  a  strong 
resemblance  to  a  spoilt  leaf  of  Somerset's  sketch-book. 
Paula  glanced  up,  and  from  a  window  above  pro- 
truded an  old  woman's  head,  which,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  white  handkerchief  tied  round  it,  was  so 
nearly  of  the  colour  of  the  carvings  that  she  might 
easily  have  passed  as  of  a  piece  with  them.  The 
aged  woman  continued  motionless,  the  remains  ot 
her  eyes  being  bent  upon  Paula,  who  asked  her  in 
Englishwoman's  French  where  the  sketcher  had  gone. 
Without  replying,  the  crone  produced  a  hand  and  ex- 
tended finger  from  her  side,  and  pointed  towards  the 
lower  end  of  the  street. 

Paula  went  on,  the  carriage  following  with  difficulty, 
on  account  of  the  obstructions  in  the  thoroughfare. 
At  bottom,  the  street  abutted  on  a  wide  one  with  cus- 
tomary modern  life  flowing  through  it;  and  as  she 
looked,  Somerset  crossed  her  front  along  this  street, 
hurrying  as  if  for  a  wager. 

By  the  time  that  Paula  had  reached  the  bottom 
Somerset  was  a  long  way  to  the  left,  and  she  recognized 
to  her  dismay  that  the  l)usy  transverse  street  was  one 
which  led  to  the  railway.  She  quickened  her  pace 
to  a  run ;  he  did  not  see  her ;  he  even   walked  faster. 

461 


A   LAODICEAN 

She  looked  behind  for  the  carriage.  The  driver  in 
emerging  from  the  sixteenth-century  street  to  the 
nineteenth  had  apparently  turned  to  the  right,  instead 
of  to  the  left  as  she  had  done,  so  that  her  aunt  had 
lost  sight  of  her.  However,  she  dare  not  mind  it,  if 
Somerset  would  but  look  back !  He  partly  turned, 
but  not  far  enough,  and  it  was  only  to  hail  a  passing 
omnibus  upon  which  she  discerned  his  luggage. 
Somerset  jumped  in,  the  omnibus  drove  on,  and 
diminished  up  the  long  road.  Paula  stood  hopelessly 
still,  and  in  a  few  minutes  puffs  of  steam  showed  her 
that  the  train  had  gone. 

She  turned  and  waited,  the  two  or  three  children 
who  had  gathered  round  her  looking  up  sympathiz- 
ingly  in  her  face.  Her  aunt,  having  now  discovered 
the  direction  of  her  flight,  drove  up  and  beckoned 
to  her. 

'  What's  the  matter  ? '  asked  Mrs.  Goodman  in  alarm. 

'  Why  ? ' 

'  That  you  should  run  like  that,  and  look  so  woe- 
begone.' 

'  Nothing :  only  I  have  decided  not  to  stay  in 
this  town.' 

'  What !  he  is  gone,  I  suppose  ?  ' 

'  Yes  ! '  exclaimed  Paula,  with  tears  of  vexation  in 
her  eyes.  '  It  isn't  every  man  who  gets  a  woman 
of  my  position  to  run  after  him  on  foot,  and  alone, 
and  he  ought  to  have  looked  round  !  Drive  to  the 
station;  I  want  to  make  an  inquiry.' 

On  reaching  the  station  she  asked  the  booking- 
clerk  some  questions,  and  returned  to  her  aunt  with 
a  cheerful  countenance.  '  Mr.  Somerset  has  only 
gone  to  Caen,'  she  said.  '  He  is  the  only  English- 
man who  went  by  this  train,  so  there  is  no  mistake. 
There  is  no  other  train  for  two  hours.  We  will  go 
on  then — shall  we  ?  ' 

'  I    am    indifferent,'     said    Mrs.    Goodman.       '  But, 

462 


PAULA 

Paula,  do  you  think  this  quite  right  ?  Perhaps  he 
is  not  so  anxious  for  your  forgiveness  as  you  think. 
Perhaps  he  saw  you,  and  wouldn't  stay.' 

A  momentary  dismay  crossed  her  face,  but  it  passed, 
and  she  answered,  '  Aunt,  that's  nonsense.  I  know 
him  well  enough,  and  can  assure  you  that  if  he  had 
only  known  I  was  running  after  him,  he  would  have 
looked  round  sharply  enough,  and  v/ould  have  given 
his  little  finger  rather  than  have  missed  me !  I  don't 
make  myself  so  silly  as  to  run  after  a  gentleman 
without  good  grounds,  for  I  know  well  that  it  is 
an  undignified  thing  to  do.  Indeed,  I  could  never 
have  thought  of  doing  it,  if  I  had  not  been  so  miser- 
ably in  the  wrong  ! ' 


A   LAODICEAN 


II 

1  HAT  evening  when  the  sun  was  dropping  out  of 
sight  they  started  for  the  city  of  Somerset's  pilgrimage. 
Paula  seated  herself  with  her  face  toward  the  western 
sky,  watching  from  her  window  the  broad  red  horizon, 
across  which  moved  thin  poplars  lopped  to  human 
shapes,  like  the  walking  forms  in  Nebuchadnezzar's 
furnace.  It  was  dark  when  the  travellers  drove  into 
Caen. 

She  still  persisted  in  her  wish  to  casually  encounter 
Somerset  in  some  aisle,  lady-chapel,  or  crypt  to  which 
he  might  have  betaken  himself  to  copy  and  learn  the 
secret  of  the  great  artists  who  had  erected  those  nooks. 
Mrs.  Goodman  was  for  discovering  his  inn,  and  calling 
upon  him  in  a  straightforward  way ;  but  Paula  seemed 
afraid  of  it,  and  they  went  out  in  the  morning  on  foot. 
First  they  searched  the  church  of  St.  Sauveur;  he 
was  not  there ;  next  the  church  of  St.  Jean ;  then  the 
church  of  St.  Pierre ;  but  he  did  not  reveal  himself, 
nor  had  any  verger  seen  or  heard  of  such  a  man. 
Outside  the  latter  church  was  a  public  flower-garden, 
and  she  sat  down  to  consider  beside  a  round  pool 
in  which  water-lilies  grew  and  gold-fish  swam,  near 
beds  of  fiery  geraniums,  dahlias,  and  verbenas  just 
past  their  bloom.  Her  enterprise  had  not  been  justi- 
fied  by  its   results  so   far;  but   meditation   still   urged 

464 


PAULA 

her  to  listen  to  the  httle  voice  within  and  push  on. 
She  accordingly  rejoined  her  aunt,  and  they  drove  up 
the  hill  to  the  Abbaye  aux  Dames,  the  day  by  this  time 
having  grown  hot  and  oppressive. 

The  church  seemed  absolutely  empty,  the  void  being 
emphasized  by  its  grateful  coolness.  But  on  going 
towards  the  east  end  they  perceived  a  bald  gentleman 
close  to  the  screen,  looking  to  the  right  and  to  the  left 
as  if  much  perplexed.  Paula  merely  glanced  over  him, 
his  back  being  toward  her,  and  turning  to  her  aunt  said 
softly,  '  I  wonder  how  we  get  into  the  choir  ?  ' 

'  That's  just  what  I  am  wondering,'  said  the  old 
gentleman,  abruptly  facing  round,  and  Paula  discovered 
that  the  countenance  was  not  unfamiliar  to  her  eye. 
Since  knowing  Somerset  she  had  added  to  her  gallery 
of  celebrities  a  photograph  of  his  father,  the  Academician, 
and  he  it  was  now  who  confronted  her. 

For  the  moment  embarrassment,  due  to  complicated 
feelings,  brought  a  slight  blush  to  her  cheek,  but  being 
well  aware  that  he  did  not  know  her,  she  answered, 
coolly  enough,  '  I  suppose  we  must  ask  some  one.' 

'  And  we  certainly  would  if  there  were  any  one  to 
ask,'  he  said,  still  looking  eastward,  and  not  much  at 
her.  '  I  have  been  here  a  long  time,  but  nobody  comes. 
Not  that  I  want  to  get  in  on  my  own  account ;  for 
though  it  is  thirty  years  since  I  last  set  foot  in  this 
place,  I  remember  it  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday.' 

'  Indeed.     I  have  never  been  here  before,'  said  Paula. 

'  Naturally.  But  I  am  looking  for  a  young  man  who 
is  making  sketches  in  some  of  these  buildings,  and  it  is 
as  likely  as  not  that  he  is  in  the  crypt  under  this  choir, 
for  it  is  just  such  out-of-the-way  nooks  that  he  prefers. 
It  is  very  provoking  that  he  should  not  have  told  me 
more  distinctly  in  his  letter  where  to  find  him.' 

Mrs.  Goodman,  who  had  gone  to  make  inquiries, 
now  came  back,  and  informed  them  that  she  had  learnt 
that  it  was  necessary  to  pass  through  the  Hotel-Dieu  to 

465  -.-  2  G 


A   LAODICEAN 

the  choir,  to  do  which  they  must  go  outside.  There- 
upon they  walked  on  together,  and  Mr.  Somerset,  quite 
ignoring  his  troubles,  made  remarks  upon  the  beauty  of 
the  architecture;  and  in  absence  of  mind,  by  reason 
either  of  the  subject,  or  of  his  listener,  retained  his  hat 
in  his  hand  after  emerging  from  the  church,  while  they 
walked  all  the  way  across  the  Place  and  into  the  Hospital 
gardens. 

'  A  very  civil  man,'  said  Mrs.  Goodman  to  Paula 
privately. 

'  Yes,'  said  Paula,  who  had  not  told  her  aunt  that 
she  recognized  him. 

One  of  the  Sisters  now  preceded  them  towards  the 
choir  and  crypt,  Mr.  Somerset  asking  her  if  a  young 
Englishman  was  or  had  been  sketching  there.  On 
receiving  a  reply  in  the  negative,  Paula  nearly  betrayed 
herself  by  turning,  as  if  her  business  there,  too,  ended 
with  the  information.  However,  she  went  on  again, 
and  made  a  pretence  of  looking  round,  Mr.  Somerset 
also  staying  in  a  spirit  of  friendly  attention  to  his 
countrywomen.  They  did  not  part  from  him  till  they 
had  come  out  from  the  crypt,  and  again  reached  the 
west  front,  on  their  way  to  which  he  additionally 
explained  that  it  was  his  son  he  was  looking  for,  who 
had  arranged  to  meet  him  here,  but  had  mentioned  no 
inn  at  which  he  might  be  expected. 

When  he  had  left  them,  Paula  informed  her  aunt 
whose  company  they  had  been  sharing.  Her  aunt 
began  expostulating  with  Paula  for  not  telling  Mr. 
Somerset  what  they  had  seen  of  his  son's  movements. 
'  It  would  have  eased  his  mind  at  least,'  she  said. 

'  I  was  not  bound  to  ease  his  mind  at  the  expense  of 
showing  what  I  would  rather  conceal.  I  am  continually 
hampered  in  such  generosity  as  that  by  the  circumstance 
of  being  a  woman  1 ' 

'  Well,  it  is  getting  too  late  to  search  further  to- 
night.' 

466 


PAULA 

It  was  indeed  almost  evening  twilight  in  the  streets, 
though  the  graceful  freestone  spires  to  a  depth  of  about 
twenty  feet  from  their  summits  were  still  dyed  with  the 
orange  tints  of  a  vanishing  sun.  The  two  relatives 
dined  privately  as  usual,  after  which  Paula  looked  out 
of  the  ^\^ndow  of  her  room,  and  reflected  upon  the 
events  of  the  day.  A  tower  rising  into  the  sky  quite 
near  at  hand  showed  her  that  some  church  or  other 
stood  within  a  few  steps  of  the  hotel  archway,  and 
saying  nothing  to  Mrs.  Goodman,  she  quietly  cloaked 
herself,  and  went  out  towards  it,  apparently  with  the 
view  of  disposing  of  a  portion  of  a  dull  dispiriting 
evening.  The  church  was  open,  and  on  entering  she 
found  that  it  was  only  lighted  by  seven  candles  burning 
before  the  altar  of  a  chapel  on  the  south  side,  the  mass 
of  the  building  being  in  deep  shade.  Motionless  out- 
lines, which  resolved  themselves  into  the  forms  of 
kneeling  women,  were  darkly  visible  among  the  chairs, 
and  in  the  triforium  above  the  arcades  there  was  one 
hitherto  unnoticed  radiance,  dim  as  that  of  a  glow- 
worm in  the  grass.  It  was  seemingly  the  effect  of  a 
solitary  tallow-candle  behind  the  masonry. 

A  priest  came  in,  unlocked  the  door  of  a  confes- 
sional with  a  click  which  sounded  in  the  silence,  and 
entered  it ;  a  woman  followed,  disappeared  within  the 
curtain  of  the  same,  emerging  again  in  about  five 
minutes,  followed  by  the  priest,  who  locked  up  his 
door  with  another  loud  click,  like  a  tradesman  full  of 
business,  and  came  down  the  aisle  to  go  out.  In  the 
lobby  he  spoke  to  another  woman,  who  replied,  '  Ah, 
oui,  Monsieur  I'Abb^  ! ' 

Two  women  having  spoken  to  him,  there  could  be 
no  harm  in  a  third  doing  likewise.  '  Monsieur  I'Abbe,' 
said  Paula  in  French,  'could  you  indicate  to  me  the 
stairs  of  the  triforium  ? '  and  she  signified  her  reason 
for  wishing  to  know  by  pointing  to  the  glimmering 
light  above. 

467 


A   LAODICEAN 

'  Ah,  he  is  a  friend  of  yours,  the  Englishman  ? ' 
pleasantly  said  the  priest,  recognizing  her  nationality ; 
and  taking  her  to  a  little  door  he  conducted  her  up  a 
stone  staircase,  at  the  top  of  which  he  showed  her  the 
long  blind  story  over  the  aisle  arches  which  led  round 
to  where  the  light  was.  Cautioning  her  not  to  stumble 
over  the  uneven  floor,  he  left  her  and  descended.  His 
words  had  signified  that  Somerset  was  here. 

It  was  a  gloomy  place  enough  that  she  found  herself 
in,  but  the  seven  candles  below  on  the  opposite  altar, 
and  a  faint  sky  light  from  the  clerestory,  lent  enough 
rays  to  guide  her.  Paula  walked  on  to  the  bend  of 
the  apse :  here  were  a  few  chairs,  and  the  origin  of 
the  light. 

This  was  a  candle  stuck  at  the  end  of  a  sharpened 
stick,  the  latter  entering  a  joint  in  the  stones.  A  young 
man  was  sketching  by  the  glimmer.  But  there  was  no 
need  for  the  blush  which  had  prepared  itself  before- 
hand ;  the  young  man  was  Mr.  Cockton,  Somerset's 
youngest  draughtsman. 

Paula  could  have  cried  aloud  with  disappointment. 
Cockton  recognized  Miss  Power,  and  appearing  much 
surprised,  rose  from  his  seat  with  a  bow,  and  said 
hastily,  '  Mr.  Somerset  left  to-day.' 

*  I  did  not  ask  for  him,'  said  Paula. 

'  No,  Miss  Power :  but  I  thought ' 

*  Yes,  yes — you  know,  of  course,  that  he  has  been 
my  architect.  Well,  it  happens  that  I  should  like  to 
see  him,  if  he  can  call  on  me.     ^Vhich  way  did  he  go  ?  ' 

'  He's  gone  to  ]^tretat.' 

'  What  for  ?  There  are  no  abbeys  to  sketch  at 
^tretat.  ' 

Cockton  looked  at  the  point  of  his  pencil,  and  with 
a  hesitating  motion  of  his  lip  answered,  '  Mr.  Somerset 
said  he  was  tired.' 

'  Of  what  ?  ' 

'  He  said  he  was  sick  and  tired  of  holy  places,  and 

468 


PAULA 

would  go  to  some  wicked  spot  or  other,  to  get  that 
consolation  which  hohness  could  not  give.  But  he 
only  said  it  casually  to  Knowles,  and  perhaps  he  did 
not  mean  it.' 

'  Knowles  is  here  too  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  Miss  Power,  and  Bowles.  Mr.  Somerset  has 
been  kind  enough  to  give  us  a  chance  of  enlarging  our 
knowledge  of  French  Early-pointed,  and  pays  half  the 
expenses.' 

Paula  said  a  few  other  things  to  the  young  man, 
walked  slowly  round  the  triforium  as  if  she  had  come 
to  examine  it,  and  returned  down  the  staircase.  On 
getting  back  to  the  hotel  she  told  her  aunt,  who  had 
just  been  having  a  nap,  that  next  day  they  would  go 
to  Etretat  for  a  change. 

'  Why  ?     There  are  no  old  churches  at  Etretat.' 

'  No.  But  I  am  sick  and  tired  of  holy  places,  and 
want  to  go  to  some  wicked  spot  or  other  to  find  that 
consolation  which  holiness  cannot  give.' 

'  For  shame,  Paula !  Now  I  know  what  it  is ;  you 
have  heard  that  he's  gone  there !  You  needn't  try  to 
blind  me.' 

'  I  don't  care  where  he's  gone ! '  cried  Paula  petu- 
lantly. In  a  moment,  however,  she  smiled  at  herself, 
and  added,  '  You  must  take  that  for  what  it  is  worth. 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  let  him  know  from  my 
own  lips  how  the  misunderstanding  arose.  That  done, 
I  shall  leave  him,  and  probably  never  see  him  again. 
My  conscience  will  be  clear." 

The  next  day  they  took  the  steamboat  down  the 
Orne,  intending  to  reach  Etretat  by  way  of  Havre. 
Just  as  they  were  moving  off  an  elderly  gentleman 
under  a  large  white  sunshade,  and  carrying  his  hat 
in  his  hand,  was  seen  leisurely  walking  down  the 
wharf  at  some  distance,  but  obviously  making  for  the 
boat. 

'  A  gentleman  ! '  said  the  mate. 

469 


A   LAODICEAN 

*  Who  is  he  ?  '  said  the  captain. 

'  An  Enghsh,'  said  Clementine. 

Nobody  knew  more,  but  as  leisure  was  the  order 
of  the  day  the  engines  were  stopped,  on  the  chance 
of  his  being  a  passenger,  and  all  eyes  were  bent 
upon  him  in  conjecture.  He  disappeared  and  re- 
appeared from  behind  a  pile  of  merchandise  and 
approached  the  boat  at  an  easy  pace,  whereupon 
the  gangway  was  replaced,  and  he  came  on  board, 
removing  his  hat  to  Paula,  quietly  thanking  the  cap- 
tain for  stopping,  and  saying  to  Mrs.  Goodman,  '  I  am 
nicely  in  time.' 

It  was  Mr.  Somerset  the  elder,  who  by  degrees 
informed  our  travellers,  as  sitting  on  their  camp-stools 
they  advanced  between  the  green  banks  bordered  by 
elms,  that  he  was  going  to  Etretat ;  that  the  young 
man  he  had  spoken  of  yesterday  had  gone  to  that 
romantic  watering-place  instead  of  studying  art  at  Caen, 
and  that  he  was  going  to  join  him  there. 

Paula  preserved  an  entire  silence  as  to  her  own 
intentions,  partly  from  natural  reticence,  and  partly, 
as  it  appeared,  from  the  difficulty  of  explaining  a 
complication  which  was  not  very  clear  to  herself.  At 
Havre  they  parted  from  Mr.  Somerset,  and  did  not 
see  him  again  till  they  were  driving  over  the  hills 
towards  Etretat  in  a  carriage  and  four,  when  the  white 
umbrella  became  visible  far  ahead  among  the  outside 
passengers  of  the  coach  to  the  same  place.  In  a  short 
time  they  had  passed  and  cut  in  before  this  vehicle, 
but  soon  became  aware  that  their  carriage,  like  the 
coach,  was  one  of  a  straggling  procession  of  convey- 
ances, some  mile  and  a  half  in  length,  all  bound  for 
the  village  between  the  cliffs. 

In  descending  the  long  hill  shaded  by  lime-trees 
which  sheltered  their  place  of  destination,  this  pro- 
cession closed  up,  and  they  perceived  that  all  the 
visitors  and  native  population  had  turned  out  to  wel- 

470 


PAULA 

come  them,  the  daily  arrival  of  new  sojourners  at 
this  hour  being  the  chief  excitement  of  Etretat.  The 
coach  whicli  had  preceded  them  all  the  way,  at  more 
or  less  remoteness,  was  now  quite  close,  and  in  pass- 
ing along  the  village  street  they  saw  Mr.  Somerset 
wave  his  hand  to  somebody  in  the  crowd  below.  A 
felt  hat  was  waved  in  the  air  in  response,  the  coach 
swept  into  the  inn-yard,  followed  by  the  idlers,  and 
all  disappeared.  Paula's  face  was  crimson  as  their 
own  carriage  swept  round  in  the  opposite  direction  to 
the  rival  inn. 

Once  in  her  room  she  breathed  like  a  person  who 
had  finished  a  long  chase.  They  did  not  go  down 
before  dinner,  but  when  it  was  almost  dark  Paula 
begged  her  aunt  to  wrap  herself  up  and  come  with 
her  to  the  shore  hard  by.  The  beach  was  deserted, 
everybody  being  at  the  Casino ;  the  gate  stood  in- 
vitingly open,  and  they  went  in.  Here  the  brilliantly 
lit  terrace  was  crowded  w^th  promenaders,  and  outside 
the  yellow  palings,  surmounted  by  its  row  of  lamps, 
rose  the  voice  of  the  invisible  sea.  Groups  of  people 
were  sitting  under  the  verandah,  the  women  mostly 
in  wraps,  for  the  air  was  growing  chilly.  Through 
the  windows  at  their  back  an  animated  scene  disclosed 
itself  in  the  shape  of  a  room-full  of  waltzers,  the  strains 
of  the  band  striving  in  the  ear  for  mastery  over  the 
sounds  of  the  sea.  The  dancers  came  round  a  couple 
at  a  time,  and  were  individually  visible  to  those  people 
without  who  chose  to  look  that  way,  which  was  what 
Paula  did. 

'  Come  away,  come  away  ! '  she  suddenly  said.  '  It 
is  not  right  for  us  to  be  here.' 

Her  exclamation  had  its  origin  in  what  she  had  at 
that  moment  seen  within,  the  spectacle  of  Mr.  George 
Somerset  whirling  round  the  room  with  a  young  lady  of 
uncertain  nationality  but  pleasing  figure.  Paula  was 
not  accustomed  to  show  the  white  feather  too  clearly, 

471 


A   LAODICEAN 

but  she  soon  had  passed  out  through  those  yellow  gates 
and  retreated,  till  the  mixed  music  of  sea  and  band  had 
resolved  into  that  of  the  sea  alone. 

'  Well ! '  said  her  aunt,  half  in  soliloquy,  '  do  you 
know  who  I  saw  dancing  there,  Paula  ?  Our  Mr. 
Somerset,  if  I  don't  make  a  great  mistake  ! ' 

'  It  was  likely  enough  that  you  did,'  sedately  replied 
her  niece.  '  He  left  Caen  with  the  intention  of  seeking 
distractions  of  a  lighter  kind  than  those  furnished  by 
art,  and  he  has  merely  succeeded  in  finding  them.  But 
he  has  made  my  duty  rather  a  difficult  one.  Still,  it 
was  my  duty,  for  I  very  greatly  wronged  him.  Perhaps, 
however,  I  have  done  enough  for  honour's  sake.  I 
would  have  humiliated  myself  by  an  apology  if  I  had 
found  him  in  any  other  situation  ;  but,  of  course,  one 
can't  be  expected  to  take  7iiucJi  trouble  when  he  is  seen 
going  on  like  that ! ' 

The  coolness  with  which  she  began  her  remarks 
had  developed  into  something  like  warmth  as  she 
concluded. 

'  He  is  only  dancing  with  a  lady  he  probably  knows 
very  well.' 

'  He  doesn't  know  her  !  The  idea  of  his  dancing  with 
a  woman  of  that  description !  We  will  go  away  to- 
morrow.    This  place  has  been  greatly  over-praised.' 

'  The  place  is  well  enough,  as  far  as  I  can  see.' 

'  He  is  carrying  out  his  programme  to  the  letter. 
He  plunges  into  excitement  in  the  most  reckless 
manner,  and  I  tremble  for  the  consequences  !  I  can 
do  no  more  :  I  have  humiliated  myself  into  following 
him,  believing  that  in  giving  too  ready  credence  to 
appearances  I  had  been  narrow  and  inhuman,  and 
had  caused  him  much  misery.  But  he  does  not  mind, 
and  he  has  no  misery  ;  he  seems  just  as  well  as  ever. 
How  much  this  finding  him  has  cost  me  !  After  all, 
I  did  not  deceive  him.  He  must  have  acquired  a 
natural    aversion   for   me.      I   have   allowed   myself  to 

472 


PAULA 

be  interested  in  a  man  of  very  common  qualities,  and 
am  now  bitterly  alive  to  the  shame  of  having  sought 
him  out.  I  heartily  detest  him !  I  will  go  back — 
aunt,  you  are  right — I  had  no  business  to  come.  .  .  . 
His  light  conduct  has  rendered  him  uninteresting  to 
me!  ' 


A   LAODICEAN 


III 

When  she  rose  the  next  morning  the  bell  was  clang- 
ing for  the  second  breakfast,  and  people  were  pouring 
in  from  the  beach  in  every  variety  of  attire.  Paula, 
whom  a  restless  night  had  left  with  a  headache,  which, 
however,  she  said  nothing  about,  was  reluctant  to 
emerge  from  the  seclusion  of  her  chamber,  till  her 
aunt,  discovering  what  was  the  matter  with  her,  sug- 
gested that  a  few  minutes  in  the  open  air  would  refresh 
her ;  and  they  went  downstairs  into  the  hotel  gardens. 

The  clatter  of  the  big  breakfast  within  was  audible 
from  this  spot,  and  the  noise  seemed  suddenly  to  inspirit 
Paula,  who  proposed  to  enter.  Her  aunt  assented. 
In  the  verandah  under  which  they  passed  was  a  rustic 
hat-stand  in  the  form  of  a  tree,  upon  which  hats  and 
other  body-gear  hung  like  bunches  of  fruit,  Paula's 
eye  fell  upon  a  felt  hat  to  which  a  small  block-book 
was  attached  by  a  string.  She  knew  that  hat  and 
block-book  well,  and  turning  to  Mrs.  Goodman  said, 
'  After  all,  I  don't  want  the  breakfast  they  are  having : 
let  us  order  one  of  our  own  as  usual.  And  we'll 
have  it  here.' 

She  led  on  to  where  some  little  tables  were  placed 
under  the  tall  shrubs,  followed  by  her  aunt,  who  was 
in  turn  followed  by  the  proprietress  of  the  hotel,  that 
lady   having    discovered    from    the    French    maid    that 

474 


paiJla 

there  was  good  reason  for  paying  these  ladies  ample 
personal  attention. 

'  Is  the  gentleman  to  whom  that  sketch-book  belongs 
staying  here  ? '  Paula  carelessly  inquired,  as  she  indi- 
cated the  object  on  the  hat-stand. 

'  Ah,  no  ! '  deplored  the  proprietress.  '  The  Hotel 
was  full  when  Mr.  Somerset  came.  He  stays  at  a 
cottage  beyond  the  Rue  Anicet  Bourgeois  :  he  only 
has  his  meals  here.' 

Paula  had  taken  her  seat  under  the  fuchsia-trees  in 
such  a  manner  that  she  could  observe  all  the  exits  from 
the  salle  a  manger ;  but  for  the  present  none  of  the 
breakfasters  emerged,  the  only  moving  objects  on  the 
scene  being  the  waitresses  who  ran  hither  and  thither 
across  the  court,  the  cook's  assistants  with  baskets  of 
long  bread,  and  the  laundresses  with  baskets  of  sun- 
bleached  linen.  Further  back  towards  the  inn-yard, 
stablemen  were  putting  in  the  horses  for  starting  the 
flys  and  coaches  to  Les  Ifs,  the  nearest  railway-station. 

'  Suppose  the  Somersets  should  be  going  off  by  one 
of  these  conveyances,'  said  Mrs.  Goodman  as  she  sipped 
her  tea. 

'Well,  aunt,  then  they  must,'  replied  the  younger 
lady  with  composure. 

Nevertheless  she  looked  with  some  misgiving  at  the 
nearest  stableman  as  he  led  out  four  white  horses, 
harnessed  them,  and  leisurely  brought  a  brush  with 
which  he  began  blacking  their  yellow  hoofs.  All  the 
vehicles  were  ready  at  the  door  by  the  time  breakfast 
was  over,  and  the  inmates  soon  turned  out,  some  to 
mount  the  omnibuses  and  carriages,  some  to  ramble  on 
the  adjacent  beach,  some  to  climb  the  verdant  slopes, 
and  some  to  make  for  the  cliffs  that  shut  in  the  vale. 
The  fuchsia-trees  which  sheltered  Paula's  breakfast-table 
from  the  blaze  of  the  sun,  also  screened  it  from  the 
eyes  of  the  outpouring  company,  and  she  sat  on  with 
her  aunt  in  perfect  comfort,  till  among  the  last  of  the 

475 


A   LAODICEAN 

stream  came  Somerset  and  his  father.  Paula  reddened 
at  being  so  near  the  former  at  last.  It  was  with  sensible 
relief  that  she  observed  them  turn  towards  the  cliffs  and 
not  to  the  carriages,  and  thus  signify  that  they  were  not 
going  off  that  day. 

Neither  of  the  two  saw  the  ladies,  and  when  the 
latter  had  finished  their  tea  and  coffee  they  followed  to 
the  shore,  where  they  sat  for  nearly  an  hour,  reading 
and  watching  the  bathers.  At  length  footsteps  crunched 
among  the  pebbles  in  their  vicinity,  and  looking  out  from 
her  sunshade  Paula  saw  the  two  Somersets  close  at  hand. 

The  elder  recognized  her,  and  the  younger,  observing 
his  father's  action  of  courtesy,  turned  his  head.  It  was 
a  revelation  to  Paula,  for  she  was  shocked  to  see  that 
he  appeared  worn  and  ill.  The  expression  of  his  face 
changed  at  sight  of  her,  increasing  its  shade  of  paleness  ; 
but  he  immediately  withdrew  his  eyes  and  passed  by. 

Somerset  was  as  much  suprised  at  encountering  her 
thus  as  she  had  been  distressed  to  see  him.  As  soon 
as  they  were  out  of  hearing,  he  asked  his  father  quietly, 
'  What  strange  thing  is  this,  that  Lady  De  Stancy  should 
be  here  and  her  husband  not  with  her  ?  Did  she  bow 
to  me,  or  to  you  ?  ' 

'  Lady  De  Stancy — that  young  lady  ? '  asked  the 
puzzled  painter.  He  proceeded  to  explain  all  he  knew ; 
that  she  was  a  young  lady  he  had  met  on  his  journey  at 
two  or  three  different  times ;  moreover,  that  if  she  were 
his  son's  client — the  woman  who  was  to  have  become 
Lady  De  Stancy — she  was  Miss  Power  still ;  for  he  had 
seen  in  some  newpsaper  two  days  before  leaving  England 
that  the  wedding  had  been  postponed  on  account  of 
her  illness. 

Somerset  was  so  greatly  moved  that  he  could  hardly 
speak  connectedly  to  his  father  as  they  paced  on  to- 
gether. '  But  she  is  not  ill,  as  far  as  I  can  see,'  he  said. 
'  The  wedding  postponed  ? — You  are  sure  the  word  was 
postponed  ? — Was  it  broken  off?  ' 

476 


PAULA 

'  No,  it  was  postponed.  I  meant  to  have  told  you 
before,  knowing  you  would  be  interested  as  the  castle 
architect;  but  it  slipped  my  memory  in  the  bustle  of 
arriving.' 

'  I  am  not  the  castle  architect.' 

'  The  devil  you  are  not — what  are  you  then  ?  ' 

'  Well,  I  am  not  that.' 

Somerset  the  elder,  though  not  of  penetrating  nature, 
began  to  see  that  here  lay  an  emotional  complication  of 
some  sort,  and  reserved  further  inquiry  till  a  more  con- 
venient occasion.  They  had  reached  the  end  of  the  level 
beach  where  the  cliff  began  to  rise,  and  as  this  impedi- 
ment naturally  stopped  their  walk  they  retraced  their 
steps.  On  again  nearing  the  spot  where  Paula  and  her 
aunt  were  sitting,  the  painter  would  have  deviated  to  the 
hotel ;  but  as  his  son  persisted  in  going  straight  on,  in 
due  course  they  were  opposite  the  ladies  again.  By 
this  time  Miss  Power,  who  had  appeared  anxious  during 
their  absence,  regained  her  self-control.  Going  towards 
her  old  lover  she  said,  with  a  smile,  '  I  have  been  look- 
ing for  you  ! ' 

'  Why  have  you  been  doing  that  ?  '  said  Somerset,  in 
a  voice  which  he  failed  to  keep  as  steady  as  he  could 
wish. 

'  Because — I  want  some  architect  to  continue  the 
restoration.      Do  you  withdraw  your  resignation  ?  ' 

Somerset  appeared  unable  to  decide  for  a  few 
instants.     '  Yes,'  he  then  answered. 

For  the  moment  they  had  ignored  the  presence  of 
the  painter  and  Mrs.  Goodman,  but  Somerset  now  made 
them  known  to  one  another,  and  there  was  friendly 
intercourse  all  round. 

'  When  will  you  be  able  to  resume  operations  at  the 
castle?'  she  asked,  as  soon  as  she  could  again  speak 
directly  to  Somerset, 

'  As  soon  as  I  can  get  back.  Of  course  I  only 
resume  it  at  your  special  request.' 

477 


A   LAODICEAN 

*  Of  course.'  To  one  who  had  known  all  the  circum- 
stances it  would  have  seemed  a  thousand  pities  that, 
after  again  getting  face  to  face  with  him,  she  did  not 
explain,  without  delay,  the  whole  mischief  that  had 
separated  them.  But  she  did  not  do  it — perhaps  from 
the  inherent  awkwardness  of  such  a  topic  at  this  idle 
time.  She  confined  herself  simply  to  the  above-men- 
tioned business-like  request,  and  when  the  party  had 
walked  a  few  steps  together  they  separated,  with  mutual 
promises  to  meet  again. 

'  I  hope  you  have  explained  your  mistake  to  him, 
and  how  it  arose,  and  everything  ? '  said  her  aunt  when 
they  were  alone. 

'  No,  I  did  not.' 

'  What,  not  explain  after  all  ? '  said  her  amazed 
relative. 

'  I  decided  to  put  it  off.' 

'  Then  I  think  you  decided  very  wrongly.  Poor 
young  man,  he  looked  so  ill ! ' 

'  Did  you,  too,  think  he  looked  ill  ?  But  he  danced 
last  night.  Why  did  he  dance  ?  '  She  turned  and  gazed 
regretfully  at  the  corner  round  which  the  Somersets  had 
disappeared. 

'  I  don't  know  why  he  danced  ;  but  if  I  had  known 
you  were  going  to  be  so  silent,  I  would  have  explained 
the  mistake  myself 

'  I  wish  you  had.  But  no ;  I  have  said  I  would ; 
and  I  must.' 

Paula's  avoidance  of  tables  dliote  did  not  extend  to 
the  present  one.  It  was  quite  with  alacrity  that  she 
went  down ;  and  with  her  entry  the  antecedent  hotel 
beauty  who  had  reigned  for  the  last  five  days  at  that 
meal,  was  unceremoniously  deposed  by  the  guests. 
Mr.  Somerset  the  elder  came  in,  but  nobody  with 
him.  His  seat  was  on  Paula's  left  hand,  Mrs.  Goodman 
being  on  Paula's  right,  so  that  all  the  conversation  was 
between  the  Academician  and  the  younger  lady.     When 

478 


PAULA 

the  latter  had  again  retired  upstairs  with  her  aunt,  Mrs. 
Goodman  expressed  regret  that  young  Mr.  Somerset  was 
absent  from  the  table.  '  Why  has  he  kept  away  ?  '  she 
asked. 

'  I  don't  know — I  didn't  ask,'  said  Paula  sadly. 
'  Perhaps  he  doesn't  care  to  meet  us  again.' 

'That's  because  you  didn't  explain.' 

'  ^^"e^ — why  didn't  the  old  man  give  me  an  oppor- 
tunity ?  '  exclaimed  the  niece  with  suppressed  excitement. 
'  He  would  scarcely  say  anything  but  yes  and  no,  and 
gave  me  no  chance  at  all  of  introducing  the  subject.  I 
wanted  to  explain — I  came  all  the  way  on  purpose — I 
would  have  begged  George's  pardon  on  my  two  knees 
if  there  had  been  any  way  of  beginning  ;  but  there  was 
not,  and  I  could  not  do  it ! ' 

Though  she  slept  badly  that  night,  Paula  promptly 
appeared  in  the  public  room  to  breakfast,  and  that  not 
from  motives  of  vanity ;  for,  while  not  unconscious  of 
her  accession  to  the  unstable  throne  of  queen-beauty  in 
the  establishment,  she  seemed  too  preoccupied  to  care 
for  the  honour  just  then,  and  would  readily  have  changed 
places  with  her  unhappy  predecessor,  who  lingered  on  in 
the  background  like  a  candle  after  sunrise. 

Mrs.  Goodman  was  determined  to  trust  no  longer  to 
Paula  for  putting  an  end  to  what  made  her  so  restless 
and  self-reproachful.  Seeing  old  Mr.  Somerset  enter  to 
a  little  side-table  behind  for  lack  of  room  at  the  crowded 
centre  tables,  again  without  his  son,  she  turned  her 
head  and  asked  point-blank  where  the  young  man  was. 

Mr.  Somerset's  face  became  a  shade  graver  than  be- 
fore. '  My  son  is  unwell,'  he  replied ;  '  so  unwell  that 
he  has  been  advised  to  stay  indoors  and  take  perfect 
rest.' 

'  I  do  hope  it  is  nothing  serious.' 

'  I  hope  so  too.  The  fact  is,  he  has  overdone  him- 
self a  little.  He  was  not  well  when  he  came  here ;  and 
to  make  himself  worse  he  must  needs  go  dancing  at  the 

479 


A   LAODICEAN 

Casino  with  this  lady  and  that — among  others  with  a 
young  American  lady  who  is  here  with  her  family,  and 
whom  he  met  in  London  last  year.  I  advised  him 
against  it,  but  he  seemed  desperately  determined  to 
shake  off  lethargy  by  any  rash  means,  and  wouldn't 
listen  to  me.  Luckily  he  is  not  in  the  hotel,  but  in  a 
quiet  cottage  a  hundred  yards  up  the  hill.' 

Paula,  who  had  heard  all,  did  not  show  or  say  what 
she  felt  at  the  news  :  but  after  breakfast,  on  meeting 
the  landlady  in  a  passage  alone,  she  asked  with  some 
anxiety  if  there  were  a  really  skilful  medical  man  in 
Etretat;  and  on  being  told  that  there  was,  and  his 
name,  she  went  back  to  look  for  Mr.  Somerset ;  but 
he  had  gone. 

They  heard  nothing  more  of  young  Somerset  all 
that  morning,  but  towards  evening,  while  Paula  sat  at 
her  window,  looking  over  the  heads  of  fuchsias  upon 
the  promenade  beyond,  she  saw  the  painter  walk  by. 
She  immediately  went  to  her  aunt  and  begged  her  to 
go  out  and  ask  Mr.  Somerset  if  his  son  had  improved. 

'  I  will  send  Milly  or  Clementine,'  said  Mrs.  Good- 
man. 

'  I  wish  you  would  see  him  yourself.' 

'  He  has  gone  on.     I  shall  never  find  him.' 

'  He  has  only  gone  round  to  the  front,'  persisted 
Paula.     '  Do  walk  that  way,  auntie,  and  ask  him.' 

Thus  pressed,  Mrs.  Goodman  acquiesced,  and 
brought  back  intelligence  to  Miss  Power,  who  had 
watched  them  through  the  window,  that  his  son  did 
not  positively  improve,  but  that  his  American  friends 
were  very  kind  to  him. 

Having  made  use  of  her  aunt,  Paula  seemed  parti- 
cularly anxious  to  get  rid  of  her  again,  and  when  that 
lady  sat  down  to  write  letters,  Paula  went  to  her  own 
room,  hastily  dressed  herself  without  assistance,  asked 
privately  the  way  to  the  cottage,  and  went  off  thither- 
ward unobserved. 

480 


PAULA 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  lane  she  saw  a  little 
house  answering  to  the  description,  whose  front  garden, 
window-sills,  palings,  and  doorstep  were  literally  ablaze 
with  nasturtiums  in  bloom. 

She  entered  this  inhabited  nosegay,  quietly  asked 
for  the  invalid,  and  if  he  were  well  enough  to  see  Miss 
Power.  The  woman  of  the  house  soon  returned,  and 
she  was  conducted  up  a  crooked  staircase  to  Somerset's 
modest  apartments.  It  appeared  that  some  rooms  in 
this  dwelling  had  been  furnished  by  the  landlady  of  the 
inn,  who  hired  them  of  the  tenant  during  the  summer 
season  to  use  as  an  annexe  to  the  hotel. 

Admitted  to  the  outer  room  she  beheld  her  architect 
looking  as  unarchitectural  as  possible ;  lying  on  a  small 
couch  which  was  drawn  up  to  the  open  casement, 
v.'hence  he  had  a  back  view  of  the  window  flowers,  and 
enjoyed  a  green  transparency  through  the  undersides  of 
the  same  nasturtium  leaves  that  presented  their  faces  to 
the  passers  without. 

When  the  latch  had  again  clicked  into  the  catch 
of  the  closed  door  Paula  went  up  to  the  invalid,  upon' 
whose  pale  and  interesting  face  a  flush  had  arisen 
simultaneously  with  the  announcement  of  her  name. 
He  would  have  sprung  up  to  receive  her,  but  she 
pressed  him  down,  and  throwing  all  reserve  on  one 
side  for  the  first  time  in  their  intercourse,  she  crouched 
beside  the  sofa,  whispering  with  roguish  solicitude,  her 
face  not  too  far  from  his  own  :  'How  foolish  you  are, 
George,  to  get  ill  just  now  when  I  have  been  wanting 
so  much  to  see  you  again  ! — I  am  so  sorry  to  see  you 
like  this — what  I  said  to  you  when  we  met  on  the  shore 
was  not  what  I  had  come  to  say ! ' 

Somerset  took  her  by  the  hand.  '  Then  what  did 
you  come  to  say,  Paula  ? '  he  asked. 

'  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  the  mere  wanton  wander- 
ing of  a  capricious  mind  was  not  the  cause  of  my 
estrangement    from    you.       Tliere    has    been    a    great 

481  2  H 


A   LAODICEAN 

deception  practised — the  exact  nature  of  it  I  cannot 
tell  you  plainly  just  at  present;  it  is  too  painful — but 
it  is  all  over,  and  I  can  assure  you  of  my  sorrow  at 
having  behaved  as  I  did,  and  of  my  sincere  friendship 
now  as  ever.' 

'  There  is  nothing  I  shall  value  so  much  as  that. 
It  will  make  my  work  at  the  castle  very  pleasant  to 
feel  that  I  can  consult  you  about  it  without  fear  of 
intruding  on  you  against  your  wishes.' 

'Yes,  perhaps  it  will.  But — you  do  not  compre- 
hend me.' 

'  You  have  been  an  enigma  always.' 

'  And  you  have  been  provoking  ;  but  never  so 
provoking  as  now.  I  wouldn't  for  the  world  tell  you 
the  whole  of  my  fancies  as  I  came  hither  this  evening  : 
but  I  should  think  your  natural  intuition  would  suggest 
what  they  were.' 

'  It  does,  Paula.  But  there  are  motives  of  delicacy 
which  prevent  my  acting  on  what  is  suggested  to  me.' 

'  Delicacy  is  a  gift,  and  you  should  thank  God  for 
it ;  but  in  some  cases  it  is  not  so  precious  as  we  would 
persuade  ourselves.' 

'Not  when  the  woman  is  rich,  and  the  man  is 
poor  ? ' 

'  O,  George  Somerset — be  cold,  or  angry,  or  any- 
thing, but  don't  be  like  this !  It  is  never  worth  a 
woman's  while  to  show  regret  for  her  injustice;  for  all 
she  gets  by  it  is  an  accusation  of  want  of  delicacy.' 

'  Indeed  I  don't  accuse  you  of  that — I  warmly, 
tenderly  thank  you  for  your  kindness  in  coming  here 
to  see  me.' 

'  Well,  perhaps  you  do.  But  I  am  now  in  I  cannot 
tell  what  mood — I  will  not  tell  what  mood,  for  it 
would  be  confessing  more  than  I  ought.  This  finding 
you  out  is  a  piece  of  weakness  that  I  shall  not  repeat ; 
and  I  have  only  one  thing  more  to  say.  I  have  served 
you  badly,  George,  I  know  that;   but   it  is  never  too 

482 


PAULA 

late  too  mend  ;  and  I  have  come  back  to  you.  How- 
ever, I  shall  never  run  after  you  again,  trust  me  for  that, 
for  it  is  not  the  woman's  part.  Still,  before  I  go,  that 
there  may  be  no  mistake  as  to  my  meaning,  and  misery 
entailed  on  us  for  want  of  a  word,  I'll  add  this  :  that  if 
you  want  to  marry  me,  as  you  once  did,  you  must  say 
so  ;  for  I  am  here  to  be  asked.' 

It  would  be  superfluous  to  transcribe  Somerset's 
reply,  and  the  remainder  of  the  scene  between  the  pair. 
Let  it  suffice  that  half-an-hour  afterwards,  when  the 
sun  had  almost  gone  down,  Paula  walked  briskly  into 
the  hotel,  troubled  herself  nothing  about  dinner,  but 
went  upstairs  to  their  sitting-room,  where  her  aunt 
presently  found  her  upon  the  couch  looking  up  at  the 
ceiling  through  her  fingers.  They  talked  on  different 
sul:)jects  for  some  time  till  the  old  lady  said  '  Mr. 
Somerset's  cottage  is  the  one  covered  with  flowers  up 
the  lane,  I  hear.' 

'  Yes,'  said  Paula. 

'  How  do  you  know  ?  ' 

'  I've  been  there.  .  .  .  We  are  going  to  be  married, 
aunt.' 

'  Indeed  ! '  rephed  Mrs.  Goodman.  '  Well,  I  thought 
this  might  be  the  end  of  it :  you  were  determined  on 
the  point ;  and  I  am  not  much  surprised  at  your 
news.  Your  father  was  very  wise  after  all  in  entailing 
everj'thing  so  strictly  upon  your  offspring ;  for  if  he 
had  not  I  should  have  been  driven  wild  with  the 
responsibility ! ' 

'  And  now  that  the  murder  is  out,'  continued  Paula, 
passing  over  that  view  of  the  case,  '  I  don't  mind  telling 
you  that  somehow  or  other  I  have  got  to  like  George 
Somerset  as  desperately  as  a  woman  can  care  for  any 
man.  I  thought  I  should  have  died  when  I  saw  him 
dancing,  and  feared  I  had  lost  him  !  He  seemed  ten 
times  nicer  than  ever  then  !  So  silly  we  women  are, 
that   I  wouldn't   marry  a   duke   in   preference  to   him. 

4S3 


A   LAODICEAN 

There,  that's  my  honest  feeling,  and  you  must  make 
what  you  can  of  itj  my  conscience  is  clear,  thank 
Heaven  ! ' 

'  Have  you  fixed  the  day  ?  ' 

'  No,'  continued  the  young  lady,  still  watching  the 
sleeping  flies  on  the  ceiling.  '  It  is  left  unsettled 
between  us,  while  I  come  and  ask  you  if  there  would 
be  any  harm — if  it  could  conveniently  be  before  we 
return  to  England  ?  ' 

'  Paula,  this  is  too  precipitate  ! ' 

'  On  the  contrary,  aunt.  In  matrimony,  as  in  some 
other  things,  you  should  be  slow  to  decide,  but  quick 
to  execute.  Nothing  on  earth  would  make  me  marry 
another  man ;  I  know  every  fibre  of  his  character ;  and 
he  knows  a  good  many  fibres  of  mine ;  so  as  there  is 
nothing  more  to  be  learnt,  why  shouldn't  we  marry  at 
once  ?  On  one  point  I  am  firm  :  I  will  never  return  to 
that  castle  as  Miss  Power.  A  nameless  dread  comes 
over  me  when  I  think  of  it — a  fear  that  some  uncanny 
influence  of  the  dead  De  Stancys  would  drive  me  again 
from  him.  O,  if  it  were  to  do  that,'  she  murmured, 
burying  her  face  in  her  hands,  '  I  really  think  it  would 
be  more  than  I  could  bear  ! ' 

'  Very  well,'  said  Mrs.  Goodman ;  '  we  will  see  what 
can  be  done.     I  will  write  to  Mr.  Wardlaw.' 


PAULA 


IV 

wN  a  windy  afternoon  in  November,  when  more  than 
two  months  had  closed  over  the  incidents  previously 
recorded,  a  number  of  farmers  were  sitting  in  a  room  of 
the  Lord-Quantock-Arms  Inn,  IMarkton,  that  was  used 
for  the  weekly  ordinary.  It  was  a  long,  low  apartment, 
formed  by  the  union  of  two  or  three  smaller  roon)s, 
with  a  bow-window  looking  upon  the  street,  and  at  the 
present  moment  was  pervaded  by  a  blue  fog  from 
tobacco-pipes,  and  a  temperature  like  that  of  a  kiln. 
The  body  of  farmers  who  still  sat  on  there  was  greater 
than  usual,  owing  to  the  cold  air  without,  the  tables 
having  been  cleared  of  dinner  for  some  time  and  their 
surface  stamped  with  liquid  circles  by  the  feet  of  the 
numerous  glasses. 

Besides  the  farmers  there  were  present  several  pro- 
fessional men  of  the  town,  who  found  it  desirable  to 
dine  here  on  market-days  for  the  opportunity  it  afforded 
them  of  increasing  their  practice  among  the  agricul- 
turists, many  of  whom  were  men  of  large  balances, 
even  luxurious  livers,  who  drove  to  market  in  elegant 
phaetons  drawn  by  horses  of  supreme  blood,  bone,  and 
action,  in  a  style  never  anticipated  by  their  fathers  when 
jogging  thither  in  light  carts,  or  afoot  witli  a  butter 
basket  on  each  arm. 

The  buzz  of  groggy  conversation  was  suddenly  iiii- 

485 


A   LAODICEAN 

pinged  on  by  the  notes  of  a  peal  of  bells  from  the 
tower  hard  by.  Almost  at  the  same  instant  the  door 
of  the  room  opened,  and  there  entered  the  landlord  of 
the  little  inn  at  Sleeping-Green.  Drawing  his  supply 
of  cordials  from  this  superior  house,  to  which  he  was 
subject,  he  came  here  at  stated  times  like  a  prebendary 
to  the  cathedral  of  his  diocesan,  afterwards  retailing  to 
his  own  humbler  audience  the  sentiments  which  he  had 
learnt  of  this.  But  curiosity  being  awakened  by  the 
church  bells  the  usual  position  was  for  the  moment 
reversed,  and  one  of  the  farmers,  saluting  him  by  name, 
asked  him  the  reason  of  their  striking  up  at  that  time 
of  day. 

'  My  mis'ess  out  yonder,'  replied  the  rural  landlord, 
nodding  sideways,  '  is  coming  home  with  her  fancy- 
man.  They  have  been  a-gaying  together  this  turk 
of  a  while  in  foreign  parts. — Here,  maid  ! — what  with 
the  wind,  and  standing  about,  my  blood's  as  low  as 
water — bring  us  a  thimbleful  of  that  that  isn't  gin  and 
not  far  from  it.' 

'  It  is  true,  then,  that  she's  become  Mrs.  Somerset  ? ' 
indifferently  asked  a  farmer  in  broadcloth,  tenant  of 
an  estate  in  quite  another  direction  than  hers,  as  he 
contemplated  the  grain  of  the  table  immediately  sur- 
rounding the  foot  of  his  glass. 

'  True — of  course  it  is,'  said  Havill,  who  was  also 
present,  in  the  tone  of  one  who,  though  sitting  in  this 
rubicund  company,  was  not  of  it.  '  I  could  have  told 
you  the  truth  of  it  any  day  these  last  five  weeks.' 

Among  those  who  had  lent  an  ear  was  Dairyman 
Jinks,  an  old  gnarled  character  who  wore  a  white 
fustian  coat  and  yellow  leggings ;  the  only  man  in 
the  room  who  never  dressed  up  in  dark  clothes  for 
marketing.  He  now  asked,  '  Married  abroad,  was 
they?  And  how  long  will  a  wedding  abroad  stand 
good  for  in  this  country  ?  ' 

'  As  long  as  a  wedding  at  home.' 

486 


PAULA 

'  Will  it  ?  Faith ;  I  didn't  know :  how  should 
I  ?  I  thought  it  might  be  some  new  plan  o'  folks 
for  leasing  women  now  they  be  so  plentiful,  so  as  to 
get  rid  o'  'em  when  the  men  be  tired  o'  'em,  and  hev 
spent  all  their  money.' 

'  He  won't  be  able  to  spend  her  money,'  said  the 
landlord  of  Sleeping-Green.  '  'Tis  her  very  own  person's 
— settled  upon  the  hairs  of  her  head  for  ever.' 

'  O  nation  !  Then  if  I  were  the  man  I  shouldn't 
care  for  such  a  one-eyed  benefit  as  that,'  said  Dairy- 
man Jinks,  turning  away  to  listen  to  the  talk  on  his 
other  hand. 

'  Is  that  true  ? '  asked  the  gentleman-farmer  in 
broadcloth. 

'  It  is  sufficiently  near  the  truth,'  said  Havill. 
'  There  is  nothing  at  all  unusual  in  the  arrangement ; 
it  was  only  settled  so  to  prevent  any  schemer  making 
a  beggar  of  her.  If  Somerset  and  she  have  any 
children,  which  probably  they  will,  it  will  be  theirs ; 
and  what  can  a  man  want  more?  Besides,  there  is 
a  large  portion  of  property  left  to  her  personal  use — 
quite  as  much  as  they  can  want.  Oddly  enough,  the 
curiosities  and  pictures  of  the  castle  which  belonged 
to  the  De  Stancys  arc  not  restricted  from  sale;  they 
are  hers  to  do  what  she  likes  with.  Old  Power  didn't 
care  for  articles  that  reminded  him  so  much  of  his 
predecessors.' 

'  Hey  ? '  said  Dairyman  Jinks,  turning  back  again, 
having  decided  that  the  conversation  on  his  right 
hand  was,  after  all,  the  more  interesting.  '  Well — 
why  can't  'em  hire  a  travelling  chap  to  touch  up 
the  picters  into  her  own  gaffers  and  gammers  ?  Then 
they'd  be  worth  sommat  to  her.' 

*  Ah,  here  they  are  ?  I  thought  so,'  said  Havill, 
who  had  been  standing  up  at  the  window  for  the 
last  few  moments.  '  The  ringers  were  told  to  begin 
as  soon  as  the  train  signalled.' 

4S7 


A   LAODICEAN 

As  he  spoke  a  carriage  drew  up  to  the  hotel-door, 
followed  by  another  with  the  maid  and  luggage.  The 
inmates  crowded  to  the  bow-window,  except  Dairy- 
man Jinks,  who  had  become  absorbed  in  his  own 
reflections. 

'  What  be  they  stopping  here  for  ? '  asked  one  of 
the  previous  speakers. 

'  They  are  going  to  stay  here  to-night,'  said  Havill. 
'  They  have  come  quite  unexpectedly,  and  the  castle 
is  in  such  a  state  of  turmoil  that  there  is  not  a  single 
carpet  down,  or  room  for  them  to  use.  We  shall  get 
two  or  three  in  order  by  next  week.' 

'  Two  little  people  like  them  will  be  lost  in  the 
chammers  of  that  wandering  place ! '  satirized  Dairy- 
man Jinks.  '  They  will  be  bound  to  have  a  randy 
every  fortnight  to  keep  the  moth  out  of  the  furniture ! ' 

By  this  time  Somerset  was  handing  out  the  wife  of 
his  bosom,  and  Dairyman  Jinks  went  on  :  '  That's  no 
more  Miss  Power  that  was,  than  my  niece's  daughter 
Kezia  is  Miss  Power — in  short  it  is  a  different  woman 
altogether !  ' 

'  There  is  no  mistake  about  the  woman,'  said  the 
landlord ;  '  it  is  her  fur  clothes  that  make  her  look  so 
like  a  caterpillar  on  end.  Well,  she  is  not  a  bad 
bargain !  As  for  Captain  De  Stancy,  he'll  fret  his 
gizzard  green.' 

'  He's  the  man  she  ought  to  ha'  married,'  declared 
the  farmer  in  broadcloth.  'As  the  world  goes  she 
ought  to  have  been  Lady  De  Stancy.  She  gave  up 
her  chapel-going,  and  you  might  have  thought  she 
would  have  given  up  her  first  young  man :  but  she 
stuck  to  him,  though  by  all  accounts  he  would  soon 
have  been  interested  in  another  party.' 

'  'Tis  woman's  nature  to  be  false  except  to  a  man, 
and  man's  nature  to  be  true  except  to  a  woman,' 
said  the  landlord  of  Sleeping-Green.  '  However,  all's 
well   that   ends   well,   and    I    have    something    else    to 

488 


PAULA 

think  of  than  new-married  couples ; '  saying  which  the 
speaker  moved  off,  and  the  otliers  returned  to  tlieir 
seats,  the  young  pair  who  had  been  their  theme  vanish- 
ing through  the  hotel  into  some  private  paradise  to  rest 
and  dine. 

By  this  time  their  arrival  had  become  known,  and 
a  crowd  soon  gathered  outside,  acquiring  audacity  with 
continuance  there.  Raising  a  hurrah,  the  group  would 
not  leave  till  Somerset  had  showed  himself  on  the 
balcony  above ;  and  then  declined  to  go  away  till 
Paula  also  had  appeared ;  when,  remarking  that  her 
husband  seemed  a  quiet  young  man  enough,  and 
would  make  a  very  good  borough  member  when  their 
present  one  misbehaved  himself,  the  assemblage  good- 
humouredly  dispersed. 

Among  those  whose  ears  had  been  reached  by  the 
hurrahs  of  these  idlers  was  a  man  in  silence  and  soli- 
tude, far  out  of  the  town.  He  was  leaning  over  a 
gate  that  divided  two  meads  in  a  watery  level  between 
Stancy  Castle  and  Markton.  He  turned  his  head  for 
a  few  seconds,  then  continued  his  contemplative  gaze 
towards  the  towers  of  the  castle,  visible  over  the  trees 
as  far  as  was  possible  in  the  leaden  gloom  of  the 
November  eve.  The  military  form  of  the  solitary 
lounger  was  recognizable  as  that  of  Sir  William  De 
Stancy,  notwithstanding  the  failing  light  and  his  atti- 
tude of  so  resting  his  elbows  on  the  gate  that  his  hands 
enclosed  the  greater  part  of  his  face. 

The  scene  was  inexpressibly  cheerless.  No  other 
human  creature  was  apparent,  and  the  only  sounds 
audible  above  the  wind  were  those  of  the  trickling 
streams  which  distributed  the  water  over  the  meadow. 
A  heron  had  been  standing  in  one  of  these  rivulets 
about  twenty  yards  from  the  officer,  and  tliey  vied 
v.ith  each  other  in  stillness  till  the  bird  suddenly 
ro.se   and   flew   off  to   the   plantation   in    wliich    it  was 

489 


A   LAODICEAN 

his  custom  to  pass  the  night  with  others  of  his  tribe. 
De  Stancy  saw  the  heron  rise,  and  seemed  to  imagine 
the  creature's  departure  without  a  supper  to  be  owing 
to  the  increasing  darkness ;  but  in  another  minute  he 
became  conscious  that  the  heron  had  been  disturbed 
by  sounds  too  distant  to  reach  his  own  ears  at  the 
time.  They  were  nearer  now,  and  there  came  along 
under  the  hedge  a  young  man  known  to  De  Stancy 
exceedingly  well. 

'  Ah,'  he  said  listlessly,  '  you  have  ventured  back.' 

'  Yes,  captain.     Why  do  you  walk  out  here  ?  ' 

'  The  bells  began  ringing  because  she  and  he  were 
expected,  and  my  thoughts  naturally  dragged  me  this 
way.  Thank  Heaven  the  battery  leaves  Markton  in  a 
few  days,  and  then  the  precious  place  will  know  me 
no  more ! ' 

'  I  have  heard  of  it.'  Turning  to  where  the  dim 
lines  of  the  castle  rose  he  continued  :  '  Well,  there  it 
stands.' 

'  And  I  am  not  in  it.' 

'  They  are  not  in  it  yet  either,' 

'  They  soon  will  be.' 

'  Well  —  what  tune  is  that  you  were  humming, 
captain  ? ' 

'  All  is  lost  now^  replied  the  captain  grimly. 

'  O  no ;  you  have  got  me,  and  I  am  a  treasure 
to  any  man.  I  have  another  match  in  my  eye 
for  you,  and  shall  get  you  well  settled  yet,  if  you 
keep  yourself  respectable.  So  thank  God,  and  take 
courage ! ' 

'Ah,  Will — you  are  a  flippant  young  fool — wise 
in  your  own  conceit ;  I  say  it  to  my  sorrow  !  'Twas 
your  dishonesty  spoilt  all.  That  lady  would  have 
been  my  wife  by  fair  dealing — time  was  all  I  required. 
But  base  attacks  on  a  man's  character  never  deserve 
to  win,  and  if  I  had  once  been  certain  that  you  had 
made  them,  my  course  would  have  been  very  different 

490 


PAULA 

both  towards  you  and  others.  But  why  should  I 
talk  to  you  about  this  ?  If  I  cared  an  atom  what 
becomes  of  you  I  would  take  you  in  hand  severely 
enough ;  not  caring,  I  leave  you  alone,  to  go  to  the 
devil  your  own  way.' 

'  Thank  you  kindly,  captain.  Well,  since  you  have 
spoken  plainly,  I  will  do  the  same.  We  De  Stancys 
are  a  worn-out  old  party  —  that's  the  long  and  the 
short  of  it.  W'e  represent  conditions  of  Hfe  that 
have  had  their  day — especially  me.  Our  one  remain- 
ing chance  was  an  alliance  with  new  aristocrats ;  and 
we  have  failed.  We  are  past  and  done  for.  Our 
line  has  had  five  hundred  years  of  glory,  and  we 
ought  to  be  content.  Etifin  les  renards  se  trouvent 
chez  h  pelletier.^ 

'  Speak  for  yourself,  young  Consequence,  and  leave 
the  destinies  of  old  families  to  respectable  philosophers. 
This  fiasco  is  the  direct  result  of  evil  conduct,  and  of 
nothing  else  at  all.  I  have  managed  badly ;  I  counten- 
anced you  too  far.  When  I  saw  your  impish  tendencies 
I  should  have  forsworn  the  alliance.' 

'  Don't  sting  me,  captain.  What  I  have  told  you  is 
true.  As  for  my  conduct,  cat  will  after  kind,  you  know. 
You  should  have  held  your  tongue  on  the  wedding 
morning,  and  have  let  me  take  my  chance.' 

'  Is  that  all  I  get  for  saving  you  from  jail  ?  Gad — 
I  alone  am  the  sufferer,  and  feel  I  am  alone  the 
fool !  .  .  .  Come,  off  with  you — I  never  want  to  see 
you  any  more.' 

'  Part  we  will,  then — till  we  meet  again.  It  will  be 
a  light  night  hereabouts,  I  think,  this  evening.' 

'  A  very  dark  one  for  me.' 

'  Nevertheless,  I  think  it  will  be  a  light  night. 
Au  revoir/' 

Dare  went  his  way,  and  after  a  while  De  Stancy  went 
his.     Both  were  soon  lost  in  the  shades. 


491 


A   LAODICEAN 


V 

1  HE  castle  to-night  was  as  gloomy  as  the  meads. 
As  Havill  had  explained,  the  habital)le  rooms  were 
just  now  undergoing  a  scour,  and  the  main  block  of 
buildings  was  empty  even  of  the  few  servants  who  had 
been  retained,  they  having  for  comfort's  sake  taken  up 
their  quarters  in  the  detached  rooms  adjoining  the 
entrance  archway.  Hence  not  a  single  light  shone 
from  the  lonely  windows,  at  which  ivy  leaves  tapped 
like  woodpeckers,  moved  by  gusts  that  were  numerous 
and  contrary  rather  than  violent.  Within  the  walls 
all  was  silence,  chaos,  and  obscurity,  till  towards 
eleven  o'clock,  when  the  thick  immovable  cloud  that 
had  dulled  the  daytime  broke  into  a  scudding  fleece, 
through  which  the  moon  forded  her  way  as  a  nebulous 
spot  of  watery  white,  sending  liglit  enough,  though  of 
a  rayless  kind,  into  the  castle  chambers  to  show  the 
confusion  that  reigned  there. 

At  this  time  an  eye  might  have  noticed  a  figure 
flitting  in  and  about  those  draughty  apartments,  and 
making  no  more  noise  in  so  doing  than  a  puff  of  wind. 
Its  motion  hither  and  thither  was  rapid,  but  methodical ; 
its  bearing  absorbed,  yet  cautious.  Though  it  ran 
more  or  less  through  all  the  principal  rooms,  the  chief 
scene  of  its  operations  was  the  Long  Gallery  over- 
looking tlie  Pleasance,  which  was  covered  by  an  orna- 

492 


PAUI.A 

mental  wood-and-plaster  roof,  and  contained  a  whole 
throng  of  family  portraits,  besides  heavy  old  cabinets 
and  the  like.  The  portraits  which  were  of  value  as 
works  of  art  were  smaller  than  these,  and  hung  in 
adjoining  rooms. 

The  manifest  occupation  of  the  figure  was  that  of 
removing  these  small  and  valuable  pictures  from  other 
chambers  to  the  gallery  in  which  the  rest  were  hung, 
and  piling  them  in  a  heap  in  the  midst.  Included  in 
the  group  were  nine  by  Sir  Peter  Lely,  five  by  Vandyck, 
four  by  Cornelius  Jansen,  one  by  Salvator  Rosa  (remark- 
able as  being  among  the  few  English  portraits  ever 
painted  by  that  master),  many  by  Kneller,  and  two  by 
Romney.  Apparently  by  accident,  the  light  being  in- 
sufficient to  distinguish  them  from  portraits,  the  figure 
also  brought  a  Raffaelle  Virgin-and-Child,  a  magnificent 
Tintoretto,  a  Titian,  and  a  Giorgione. 

On  these  was  laid  a  large  collection  of  enamelled 
miniature  portraits  of  the  same  illustrious  line ;  after- 
wards tapestries  and  cushions  embroidered  with  the 
initials  '  De  S.' ;  and  next  the  cradle  presented  by 
Charles  the  First  to  the  contemporary  De  Stancy 
mother,  till  at  length  there  arose  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor  a  huge  heap  containing  most  of  what  had  been 
personal  and  peculiar  to  members  of  the  De  Stancy 
family  as  distinct  from  general  furniture. 

Then  the  figure  went  from  door  to  door,  and  threw 
open  each  that  was  unfastened.  It  next  proceeded  to 
a  room  on  the  ground  floor,  at  present  fitted  up  as 
a  carpenter's  shop,  and  knee-deep  in  shavings.  An 
armful  of  these  was  added  to  the  pile  of  objects  in 
the  gallery ;  a  window  at  each  end  of  the  gallery  was 
opened,  causing  a  brisk  draught  along  the  walls ;  and 
then  the  activity  of  the  figure  ceased,  and  it  was  seen 
no  more. 

Five  minutes  afterwards  a  light  shone  upon  the  lawn 
from  the  windows  of  the  Long  Gallery,  which  glowed 

493 


A   LAODICEAN 

with  more  brilliancy  than  it  had  known  in  the  meri- 
dian of  its  Caroline  splendours.  Thereupon  the  framed 
gentleman  in  the  lace  collar  seemed  to  open  his  eyes 
more  widely ;  he  with  the  flowing  locks  and  turn-up 
mustachios  to  part  his  lips  ;  he  in  the  armour,  who  was 
so  much  like  Captain  De  Stancy,  to  shake  the  plates  of 
his  mail  with  suppressed  laughter ;  the  lady  with  the 
three-stringed  pearl  necklace,  and  vast  expanse  of  neck, 
to  nod  with  satisfaction  and  triumphantly  signify  to  her 
adjoining  husband  that  this  was  a  meet  and  glorious 
end. 

The  flame  increased,  and  blown  upon  by  the  wind 
roared  round  the  pictures,  the  tapestries,  and  the  cradle, 
up  to  the  plaster  ceiling  and  through  it  into  the  forest 
of  oak  timbers  above. 

The  best  sitting-room  at  the  Lord-Quantock-Arms 
in  Markton  was  as  cosy  this  evening  as  a  room  can  be 
that  lacks  the  minuter  furniture  on  which  cosiness  so 
largely  depends.  By  the  fire  sat  Paula  and  Somerset, 
the  former  with  a  shawl  round  her  shoulders  to  keep  off 
the  draught  which,  despite  the  curtains,  forced  its  way 
in  on  this  gusty  night  through  the  windows  opening 
upon  the  balcony.  Paula  held  a  letter  in  her  hand,  the 
contents  of  which  formed  the  subject  of  their  conversa- 
tion. Happy  as  she  was  in  her  general  situation,  there 
was  for  the  nonce  a  tear  in  her  eye. 

'  My  ever  dear  Paula  (ran  the  letter), — Your  last  letter  has 
just  reached  me,  and  I  have  followed  your  account  of  your  travels 
and  intentions  with  more  interest  than  I  can  tell.  You,  who  know 
me,  need  no  assurance  of  this.  At  the  present  moment,  however, 
I  am  in  the  whirl  of  a  change  that  has  resulted  from  a  resolution 
taken  some  time  ago,  but  concealed  from  almost  everybody  till 
now.  Why?  Well,  I  will  own — from  cowardice — fear  lest  I 
should  be  reasoned  out  of  my  plan.  I  am  going  to  steal  from  the 
world,  Paula,  from  the  social  world,  for  whose  gaieties  and  ambi- 
tions I  never  had  much  liking,  and  whose  circles  I  have  not  the 

494 


PAULA 

ability  to  grace.  My  home,  and  resting-plnce  till  the  great  rest 
comes,  is  with  the  Protestant  Sisterhood  at .  Whatever  short- 
comings may  be  found  in  such  a  community,  I  believe  that  I  shall 
be  happier  there  than  in  any  other  place. 

'  Whatever  you  may  think  of  my  judgment  in  taking  this  step,  I 
can  assure  you  that  I  have  not  done  it  without  consideration.  My 
reasons  are  good,  and  my  determination  is  unalterable.  But,  my 
own  very  best  friend,  and  more  than  sister,  don't  think  that  I  mean 
to  leave  my  love  and  friendship  for  you  behind  me.  No,  Paula, 
you  will  always  be  with  me,  and  I  believe  that  if  an  increase  in 
what  I  already  feel  for  you  be  possible,  it  will  be  furthered  by  the 
retirement  and  meditation  I  shall  enjoy  in  my  secluded  home. 
My  heart  is  very  full,  dear— too  full  to  write  more.  God  bless  you, 
and  your  husband.  You  must  come  and  see  me  there  ;  I  have  not 
so  many  friends  that  I  can  afford  to  lose  you  who  have  been  so 
kind.  I  write  this  with  the  fellow-pen  to  yours,  that  you  gave  me 
when  we  went  to  Budmouth  together.  Good-bye  ! — Ever  your  own 
sister,  Charlotte.' 

Paula  had  first  read  this  through  silently,  and  now 
in  reading  it  a  second  time  aloud  to  Somerset  her 
voice  faltered,  and  she  wept  outright.  '  I  had  been 
expecting  her  to  live  with  us  always,'  she  said  through 
her  tears,  '  and  to  think  she  should  have  decided  to 
do  this  ! ' 

'  It  is  a  pity  certainly,'  said  Somerset  gently.  '  She 
was  genuine,  if  anybody  ever  was;  and  simple  as  she 
was  true.' 

'  I  am  the  more  sorry,'  Paula  presently  resumed, 
'  because  of  a  little  plan  I  had  been  thinking  of  with  re- 
gard to  her.  You  know  that  the  pictures  and  curiosities 
of  the  castle  are  not  included  in  the  things  I  cannot 
touch,  or  impeach,  or  whatever  it  is.  They  are  our  own 
to  do  what  we  like  with.  My  father  felt  in  devising  the 
estate  that,  however  interesting  to  the  De  Stancys  those 
objects  might  be,  they  did  not  concern  us — were  indeed 
rather  in  the  way,  having  been  come  by  so  strangely, 
through  Mr.  Wilkins,  .though  too  valuable  to  be  treated 
lightly.     Now  I  was  going  to  suggest  that  we  would  not 

495 


A   LAODICEAN 

sell  them — indeed  I  could  not  bear  to  do  such  a  thing 
with  what  had  belonged  to  Charlotte's  forefathers — but 
to  hand  them  over  to  her  as  a  gift,  either  to  keep  for 
herself,  or  to  pass  on  to  her  brother,  as  she  should 
choose.  Now  I  fear  there  is  no  hope  of  it :  and  yet  I 
shall  never  like  to  see  them  in  the  house.' 

'  It  can  be  done  still,  I  should  think.  She  can 
accept  them  for  her  brother  when  he  settles,  without 
absolutely  taking  them  into  her  own  possession.' 

'  It  would  be  a  kind  of  generosity  which  hardly 
amounts  to  more  than  justice  (although  they  were 
purchased)  from  a  recusant  usurper  to  a  dear  friend 
— not  that  I  am  a  usurper  exactly;  well,  from  a 
representative  of  the  new  aristocracy  of  internationality 
to  a  representative  of  the  old  aristocracy  of  exclusive- 
ness.' 

'  What  do  you  call  yourself,  Paula,  since  you  are  not 
of  your  father's  creed  ?  ' 

'  I  suppose  I  am  what  poor  Mr.  Woodwell  said — 
by  the  way,  we  must  call  and  see  him — something  or 
other  that's  in  Revelation,  neither  cold  nor  hot.  But 
of  course  that's  a  sub-species — I  may  be  a  lukewarm 
anything.  What  I  really  am,  as  far  as  I  know,  is 
one  of  that  body  to  whom  lukewarmth  is  not  an 
accident  but  a  provisional  necessity,  till  they  see  a 
little  more  clearly.'  She  had  crossed  over  to  his  side, 
and  pulling  his  head  towards  her  whispered  a  name  in 
his  ear. 

'  Why,  Mr.  Woodwell  said  you  were  that  too  !  You 
carry  your  beliefs  very  comfortably.  I  shall  be  glad 
when  enthusiasm  is  come  again.' 

'  I  am  going  to  revise  and  correct  my  beliefs  one  of 
these  days  when  I  have  thought  a  little  further.'  She 
suddenly  breathed  a  sigh  and  added,  '  How  transitory 
our  best  emotions  are !  In  talking  of  myself  I  am 
heartlessly  forgetting  Charlotte,  and  becoming  happy 
again.     I  won't  be  happy  to-night  for  her  sake ! ' 

496 


PAULA 

A  few  minutes  after  this  their  attention  was  attracted 
by  a  noise  of  footsteps  running  along  the  street ;  then 
a  heavy  tramp  of  horses,  and  lumbering  of  wheels. 
Other  feet  were  heard  scampering  at  intervals,  and  soon 
somebody  ascended  the  staircase  and  approached  their 
door.     The  head  waiter  appeared. 

'  Ma'am,  Stancy  Castle  is  all  afire ! '  said  the  waiter 
breathlessly. 

Somerset  jumped  up,  drew  aside  the  curtains,  and 
stepped  into  the  bow-window.  Right  before  him  rose 
a  blaze.  The  window  looked  upon  the  street  and 
along  the  turnpike  road  to  the  very  hill  on  which  the 
castle  stood,  the  keep  being  visible  in  the  daytime 
above  the  trees.  Here  rose  the  light,  which  appeared 
little  further  off  than  a  stone's  throw  instead  of  nearly 
three  miles.  Every  curl  of  the  smoke  and  every  wave 
of  the  flame  was  distinct,  and  Somerset  fancied  he  could 
hear  the  crackling. 

Paula  had  risen  from  her  seat  and  joined  him  in 
the  window,  where  she  heard  some  people  in  the  street 
saying  that  the  servants  were  all  safe;  after  which  she 
gave  her  mind  more  fully  to  the  material  aspects  of  the 
catastrophe. 

The  whole  town  was  now  rushing  off  to  the  scene  of 
the  conflagration,  which,  shining  straight  along  the  street, 
showed  the  burgesses'  running  figures  distinctly  upon 
the  illumined  road.  Paula  was  quite  ready  to  act  upon 
Somerset's  suggestion  that  they  too  should  hasten  to 
the  spot,  and  a  fly  was  got  ready  in  a  few  minutes. 
With  lapse  of  time  Paula  evinced  more  anxiety  as  to  the 
fate  of  her  castle,  and  when  they  had  driven  as  near  as  it 
was  prudent  to  do,  they  dismounted,  and  went  on  foot 
into  the  throng  of  people  which  was  rapidly  gathering 
from  the  town  and  surrounding  villages.  Among  the 
faces  they  recognized  Mr.  Woodwell,  Havill  the  architect, 
the  rector  of  the  parish,  the  curate,  and  many  others 
known  to  them  by  sight.     These,  as  soon  as  they  saw 

497  2  I 


A   LAODICEAN 

the  young  couple,  came  forward  with  words  of  con- 
dolence, imagining  them  to  have  been  burnt  out  of 
bed,  and  vied  with  each  other  in  offering  them  a 
lodging.  Somerset  explained  where  they  were  staying 
and  that  they  required  no  accommodation,  Paula  in- 
terrupting with  '  O  my  poor  horses,  what  has  become 
of  them  ? ' 

'  The  fire  is  not  near  the  stables,'  said  Mr.  Woodwell. 
'  It  broke  out  in  the  body  of  the  building.  The  horses, 
however,  are  driven  into  the  field.' 

'  I  can  assure  you,  you  need  not  be  alarmed,  madam,' 
said  Havill.  '  The  chief  constable  is  here,  and  the  two 
town  engines,  and  I  am  doing  all  I  can.  The  castle 
engine  unfortunately  is  out  of  repair.' 

Somerset  and  Paula  then  went  on  to  another  point 
of  view  near  the  gymnasium,  where  they  could  not  be 
seen  by  the  crowd.  Three-quarters  of  a  mile  off,  on 
their  left  hand,  the  powerful  irradiation  fell  upon  the 
brick  chapel  in  which  Somerset  had  first  seen  the 
woman  who  now  stood  beside  him  as  his  wife.  It 
was  the  only  object  visible  in  that  direction,  the  dull 
hills  and  trees  behind  failing  to  catch  the  light.  She 
significantly  pointed  it  out  to  Somerset,  who  knew  her 
meaning,  and  they  turned  again  to  the  more  serious 
matter. 

It  had  long  been  apparent  that  in  the  face  of  such 
a  wind  all  the  pigmy  appliances  that  the  populace  could 
bring  to  act  upon  such  a  mass  of  combustion  would  be 
unavailing.  As  much  as  could  burn  that  night  was 
burnt,  while  some  of  that  which  would  not  burn 
crumbled  and  fell  as  a  formless  heap,  whence  new  flames 
towered  up,  and  inclined  to  the  north-east  so  far  as  to 
singe  the  trees  of  the  park.  The  thicker  walls  of  Nor- 
man date  remained  unmoved,  partly  because  of  their 
thickness,  and  partly  because  in  them  stone  vaults  took 
the  place  of  v/ood  floors. 

The  tower  clock  kept  manfully  going  till  it  had  struck 

498 


PAULA 

one,  its  face  smiling  out  from  the  smoke  as  if  nothing 
were  the  matter,  after  which  iiour  something  fell  down 
inside,  and  it  went  no  more. 

Cunningham  Haze,  with  his  body  of  men,  was 
devoted  in  his  attention,  and  came  up  to  say  a  word  to 
our  two  spectators  from  time  to  time.  Towards  four 
o'clock  the  flames  diminished,  and  feeling  thoroughly 
weary,  Somerset  and  Paula  remained  no  longer,  return- 
ing to  ]Markton  as  they  had  come. 

On  their  journey  they  pondered  and  discussed  what 
course  it  would  be  best  to  pursue  in  the  circumstances, 
gradually  deciding  not  to  attempt  rebuilding  the  castle 
unless  they  were  absolutely  compelled.  True,  the  main 
walls  were  still  standing  as  firmly  as  ever ;  but  there 
was  a  feeling  common  to  both  of  them  that  it  would 
be  well  to  make  an  opportunity  of  a  misfortune,  and 
leaving  the  edifice  in  ruins  start  their  married  life  in  a 
mansion  of  independent  construction  hard  by  the  old 
one,  unencumbered  with  the  ghosts  of  an  unfortunate 
line. 

'  We  will  build  a  new  house  from  the  ground,  eclectic 
in  style.  We  will  remove  the  ashes,  charred  wood,  and 
so  on  from  the  ruin,  and  plant  more  ivy.  The  winter 
rains  will  soon  wash  the  unsightly  smoke  from  the 
walls,  and  Stancy  Castle  will  be  beautiful  in  its  decay. 
You,  Paula,  will  be  yourself  again,  and  recover,  if  you 
have  not  already,  from  the  warp  given  to  your  mind 
(according  to  Woodwell)  by  the  medievalism  of  that 
place.' 

'  And  be  a  perfect  representative  of  "  the  modern 
spirit  "  ?  '  she  inquired  ,;  '  representing  neither  the  senses 
and  understanding,  nor  the  heart  and  imagination ; 
but  what  a  finished  writer  calls  "  the  imaginative 
reason  "  ? ' 

'  Yes ;  for  since  it  is  rather  in  your  line  you  may  as 
well  keep  straight  on.' 

'  Very  well,  I'll  keep  straight  on ;  and  we'll  build  a 

499 


A   LAODICEAN 

nev\-  house  beside  the  ruin,  and  show  the  modern  spirit 

for    evermore.  .  .   .    But,    George,    I    wish '     And 

Paula  repressed  a  sigh. 

'  Well  ? ' 

'  I  wish  my  castle  wasn't  burnt ;  and  I  wish  you  were 
a  De  Stancy  ! ' 


THE   END, 


Printed  hy  Ballantyne,  Hanson  &  Co. 
Edinburgh  and  London 


Q^T"-    --I   M 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  598  056    o 


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